In the Shadow of the Chosen: The Obi Wan Saga
by solojones
Summary: This is Obi Wan's story, the untold years and events between the films, his failed relationship with Anakin and his second chance with Luke. Currently: Episode IV The Cure... 17 year old Anakin is in need of a break, as is Obi Wan. Neither will get one.
1. Episode I: A New Beginning

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi intended to spend his life as a Jedi, a servant of the galaxy... until he met Anakin Skywalker, and his purpose soon became radically different. Through struggles with everything from pride to desolace, envy to compassion, betrayal to hope, Obi-Wan must find the strength to carry out his purpose to its end: seeing balance brought to the Force.  
  
Rating: PG (for... Star Warsyness)  
  
Timespan: TPM-ROTJ (that's right, all of it)  
  
Author's Note: This is, for me, an extreme labour of love. We all know the story of Anakin and we somewhat know the story of Obi-Wan, but I've always felt that my favourite character (and, in my opinion, the most interesting character) has been somewhat neglected. The SW saga is, after all, the Skywalker story, and I'm not blaming GL for making it as such. I just think that Kenobi is a really interesting character who is far more complex and important to the story than one might be lead on to believe. Besides, I really think he's a surrogate part of the Skywalker family.  
  
I have taken great care in studying Obi-Wan's evolving character and personality characteristics throughout the saga. Great care. Seriously, you don't want to know how many hours I've put into this or what kind of ridiculous notes I've taken on the subject. I hope this will result in a realistic portrayal of the character's story. But please, please take the time to write reviews when you read. I take positive or negative comments, honestly, I just can't stand lurkers. It's really disrespectful to authors.  
  
A word about the format of this Saga. There are several 'Episodes' within it, which are different time spans in the TPM-ROTJ saga. There will be 9 such episodes. Each of these contains numerous scenes which are either scenes from the films or 'delted and extended' scenes, if you will (those will make up the majority). The exceptions will be the episodes filling in 'gaps' between the films. I have tried to keep these stories as close to the films as possible in dialogue and action where bits have been taken directly from the films. However, I might also occasionally draw on the Jedi Apprentice books just slightly. But if I do, it will be very slightly, just for ideas on what apprenticeship is like.  
  
Fanfiction.net readers: Please note that I will only be posting each episode rather than each 'chapter' within these. If I didn't, I would probably break a chapter number record by the end. Unfortunately, this means there will probably be large gaps between updates (It took me about 2 months to write Episode I, for instance). If you're *really* motivated to read each chapter as it comes (usually several per week), you can visit the thread for the story at theforce.net in the FanFiction Saga board.  
  
*****  
  
Episode I: A New Beginning  
  
Anakin Skywalker was the boy's name. He looked so young, his face so open and honest as he gazed in admiration at Obi-Wan. "You're a Jedi too?" he asked in a tone of awe. Obi-Wan gave a small nod. "Pleased to meet you!" the boy said with an enthusiastic grin as he shook Obi-Wan's hand. The young man couldn't help but smile a little at the boy's demeanor. He was so sincerely eager and excited. Clearly the last few days had been the most exhilarating of Anakin's young life; the boy was experiencing freedom for the first time.  
  
Obi-Wan's amusement quickly gave way to reproach as he remembered all that had been riding on the boy's pod race. It was one thing for Anakin's own freedom to depend upon it, but Obi-Wan was still dismayed with Qui-Gon for putting all their fates in the boy's hands. Their mission was very serious, yet the older Jedi seemed to treat it like a game. It wasn't the first time the Padawan had been less than thrilled with his Master's tactics. It wasn't even the first time this mission. But, though he might disagree with Qui-Gon's methods, Obi-Wan had to admit they had yet to fail. He wasn't sure how long that would last, and if they kept picking up strays they might never complete the mission.  
  
"This is the first time I've ever been on a starship," Anakin commented, gazing around admiringly.  
  
"Would you like to see the cockpit?" Qui-Gon offered.  
  
The boy's eyes widened slightly. "I can? Really?"  
  
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Of course you can." He stood up and motioned for the boy to lead the way down the hall.  
  
Despite the light-hearted mood the others were in, Obi-Wan suddenly felt apprehensive. "Master," he said abruptly, standing up.  
  
Both Anakin and Qui-Gon stopped and turned towards him. "Yes Obi-Wan?" Qui- Gon asked.  
  
"I'd like to speak with you," Obi-Wan replied. Their mission had become even more complicated upon picking up Anakin, and he felt the need to talk with Qui-Gon about the matter soon. His eyes flicked to the boy, then back to his Master. "Alone, for a moment."  
  
Anakin looked up at Qui-Gon questioningly. After a quick glance down at the boy, Qui-Gon replied genially, "I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to talk later. It's a long trip to Coruscant."  
  
Obi-Wan resisted the urge to argue. "Yes Master," he said with a polite nod. His eyes met with Anakin's for a moment, and the boy gave him an amiable smile before turning to head eagerly for the cockpit. Qui-Gon followed the boy, glancing back at Obi-Wan expectantly. The young man hesitated a moment. Then, realising he must be patient, he resigned himself to silently following after them.  
  
******  
  
The ship was quiet save for the din of its engines. The lights were dimmed and most aboard were asleep. Obi-Wan paced the corridors quietly, looking for Qui-Gon. He was sure the Jedi wouldn't be asleep yet. He always found something important to do with his downtime. Obi-Wan found him at a computer terminal gazing intently at the screen.  
  
"I haven't been able to find anything on our attacker," Qui-Gon said without turning around.  
  
The young man had entered the room silently. Anyone else would have been oblivious to his presence, but the Jedi knew he was there immediately through the bond they shared in the Force.  
  
Obi-Wan looked over Qui-Gon's shoulder at the screen. "Could it have been a local?"  
  
"I don't think so. My guess is it tracked us there looking for the Queen," Qui-Gon said, letting out an exasperated sigh and turning away from the terminal.  
  
A confused look passed Obi-Wan's face. "But how could it have tracked the Queen? We sent no messages out, just as you had requested."  
  
Qui-Gon's expression became worried. "Perhaps it used other methods."  
  
"Other methods?"  
  
Qui-Gon stood up and looked solemnly at Obi-Wan. He spoke in a subdued tone, even though everyone else on board was asleep and well out of earshot. "I have reason to believe our attacker was a Sith."  
  
"A Sith?" The Padawan's eyebrows raised before furrowing into a concerned expression. "Nobody's encountered a Sith in ages."  
  
"I know. Which means if it was a Sith, he has chosen this exact moment to reveal himself." Qui-Gon sounded worried.  
  
"What do you think it means?"  
  
"I'm not sure. I shall have to consult with the Council once we reach Coruscant." The Jedi walked past Obi-Wan, heading towards his room.  
  
The mention of Coruscant reminded Obi-Wan why he had come to see Qui-Gon in the first place. "Master," he called out, causing the Jedi master to stop and turn back to him. "What are you planning on doing with the boy once we reach Coruscant?"  
  
"He will stay with us," Qui-Gon said matter-of-factly.  
  
"What about after the mission," Obi-Wan said more insistently, taking a step towards Qui-Gon. "Will you take him back to Tatooine?"  
  
Qui-Gon's brow furrowed. "Why should I take him back when we've just brought him out of there?"  
  
Obi-Wan faltered slightly under Qui-Gon's stern gaze. He wanted to say more, but ended up muttering instead, "He would no longer be a slave."  
  
Qui-Gon replied firmly, "You're aware that I'm taking him to the Temple, and I know you disagree with my decision. But you must learn to trust my judgement."  
  
So he's still planning to take the boy to the Temple, Obi-Wan thought. He had suspected as much, but had hoped Qui-Gon might change his mind. The Council will never accept the boy, and then what will he do with him?  
  
"The Council will accept him, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said solidly, picking up on his apprentice's thoughts. The young man shot him a look of slight chagrin. "It is clear that Anakin has a special gift. The Council will undoubtedly see as I have that it was the will of the Force for us to find him. You cannot account for all that has happened with the boy with coincidence."  
  
Obi-Wan had nothing to say to counter that. The sequence of events did seem rather auspicious. But he still had his doubts about the Council accepting the boy. It would be an anomaly to a society which was heavily structured and which adhered strictly to its rules. That was the way the Jedi Order had to be in order to function properly. It was doubtful that they would make an exception for this one boy; Obi-Wan didn't understand what Qui-Gon saw in Anakin anyway.  
  
"Master," he said gently, "I don't think it will be as easy to convince them as you believe it will be. The boy is obviously Force sensitive, but there are many children at the Temple who have already been properly trained in the Jedi arts since birth."  
  
Qui-Gon shook his head. His voice took on a distinctive tone of firm insistence and conviction, "I have never encountered anyone with Anakin's potential, even at the Temple. Have you?"  
  
A moment of indignation passed over Obi-Wan. He managed to swallow his pride and reply, "No Master," obediently.  
  
Qui-Gon nodded in contentment. "We should arrive at Coruscant sometime tomorrow, but it won't be too early. You should have time to get some rest. We still have our mission before us."  
  
Obi-Wan silently wondered if they would be picking up any more strays along the way. He was beginning to feel as though this mission would never be completed.  
  
******  
  
As soon as they had landed on Coruscant, Qui-Gon requested a meeting with the Jedi Council to give a detailed report of their mysterious attacker. The Council was troubled at the prospect of the Sith resurfacing, but also a little incredulous. Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to think. He thought it strange, as Mater Windu had pointed out, that the Council would not have known about it. But the Council could not seem to come to an agreement on the issue.  
  
"With the Naboo queen you must stay, Qui-Gon. Protect her," Yoda said, after some deliberation.  
  
Back to Naboo, Obi-Wan thought somewhat glumly. It seemed this mission would truly never end. He and Qui-Gon had been on countless missions in the past, but they rarely spanned so many planets or involved so many parties. Obi-Wan's mind had drifted for a moment, but was called back with familiar words.  
  
"May the Force be with you," Yoda said sincerely. Obi-Wan made a courteous bow and turned towards the exit. After a few steps, he noticed Qui-Gon had not yet followed. He hoped in vain that his Master would follow, but it was immediately clear that the Jedi was not finished.  
  
"Master Qui-Gon, more to say have you?" Yoda's distinct voice inquired.  
  
Obi-Wan turned back to face the council, trying to hide his annoyance. He had known this was going to happen but had clung to some hope that Qui-Gon might change his mind. He was only wasting time and embarrassing himself and Obi-Wan, but the young apprentice wouldn't dare to questions his master in front of the council. Instead he stood obediently and said nothing.  
  
"With your permission, my Master," Qui-Gon began, "I have encountered a vergence in the Force."  
  
"A vergence, you say?" Yoda asked with cautious curiosity.  
  
"Located around a person?" Master Windu added.  
  
"A boy," Master Jinn clarified, "his cells have the highest concentration of midi-chlorians I have seen in a life form."  
  
Only a slight twitch of a cheek muscle betrayed Obi-Wan's frustration. He had processed the data himself, but he still wasn't sure it was correct. Besides, even if the levels had been correct, what did that really mean? It took more than midi-chlorians to be a Jedi, that much Obi-Wan was sure of.  
  
"It is possible," Qui-Gon continued, "that he was conceived by the midi- chlorians."  
  
The Council exchanged meaningful looks as Obi-Wan struggled to contain his surprise. Qui-Gon couldn't be proposing what he thought he was.  
  
"You're referring to the prophecy of the one who will be balance to the Force," Mace stated blatantly. "You believe it's this... boy?" He sounded sceptical.  
  
Obi-Wan realised that he had underestimate Qui-Gon's interest in the boy. He had never imagined that his Master thought the boy such a key personage in Jedi lore. The Padawan's disbelief seemed to be echoed by that of the Council members.  
  
Now Qui-Gon seemed to realise the weigh of what he was implying, and hesitated. "I don't presume-"  
  
"But you do!" Master Yoda interjected sharply. "Revealed your opinion is."  
  
The Jedi remained unfazed. "I request the boy be tested."  
  
"Trained as a Jedi, you request for him?"  
  
"Finding him was the will of the Force, I have no doubt of that," Qui-Gon spoke with great fervour. "There is too much happening here..."  
  
The Council members looked at one another, exchanging private thoughts. Obi- Wan shifted his weight slightly in impatience. There was a pregnant pause before Master Windu replied, somewhat reluctantly, "Bring him before us then."  
  
"Tested he will be," Master Yoda said, eyeing Qui-Gon carefully.  
  
The Jedi and his Padawan bowed reverently before exiting the chambers.  
  
*****  
  
A few hours later, the two Jedi stood with Anakin outside the Council Chambers. The boy was anxiously chewing on the inside of one cheek. Qui-Gon knelt down next to him. "Try to relax. There's nothing to be afraid of."  
  
"I'm not afraid," Anakin said boldly, lifting his chin a notch.  
  
Qui-Gon smiled. "I know you're not." The Council door slid open, and the boy gave the venerable Master a questioning glance. "Go on in. I'll be here when you're done," Qui-Gon said. Anakin nodded and entered the Council chambers, leaving Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan outside to wait.  
  
"It will be at least an hour before he's done," Qui-Gon said. "Why don't we stretch our legs? It's been a while since we've been here anyway." His apprentice nodded in unspoken agreement.  
  
They walked along the busy Temple hallways silently. Obi-Wan was trying to figure out why the council had entertained Qui-Gon so much about the boy. He was almost positive that they wouldn't accept Anakin for training; the boy had been through too much to simply have his mind reprogrammed to an entirely new lifestyle. It was wrong to get the Jedi Master's hopes up.  
  
Qui-Gon easily sensed that Obi-Wan wanted to say something to him, but knew the young man was only comfortable speaking with him in private. "It's a lovely evening," he said, motioning towards the door to the west balcony, "why don't we go outside?" The Jedi Master gazed appreciatively out over the beautiful site of the sunset as he strolled onto the veranda, Obi-Wan following at his side.  
  
Obi-Wan didn't want to upset Qui-Gon, but he felt someone needed to keep his hopes for Anakin's future grounded in reality. "The boy will not pass the Council's tests, Master," he said, letting more of his annoyance creep into his voice than he had meant to. He felt Qui-Gon's mood shift. "He's too old," Obi-Wan added, looking away. The argument was only a fraction of what was really on his mind. He could think of half a dozen reasons why Anakin should not and would not be trained, but his confidence always seemed to falter when Qui-Gon disagreed with him.  
  
"Anakin will become a Jedi. I promise you," Qui-Gon replied with firm assurance. Obi-Wan knew the tone all too well. It always came when his Master had his hearty set on something, especially something the Council and others disagreed with.  
  
"Don't defy the Council, Master," Obi-Wan pleaded, "not again." He had grown weary of Qui-Gon's constant defiance. Sometimes he understood the elder man's reasoning, but at other times such as this, he simply wished his Master weren't so stubborn.  
  
Qui-Gon's reply was predictable. "I will do as I must, Obi-Wan." He turned and walked over to the railing, gazing out over the endless city illuminated by the glowing sunset.  
  
Still, Obi-Wan was not quite ready to give the matter up. "If you would just follow the Code, you would be on the Council," he said, following after Qui-Gon. He said nothing in reply. "They will not go along with you this time," Obi-Wan finished in frustration. He meant it, too. Master Qui- Gon was an extremely well-respected Jedi, but sometimes he flat out defied the Jedi Code. It was unfathomable to the young man. He had insisted to Qui- Gon many times that if everyone refused to follow a set of rules, there would be chaos, but the Jedi Master had always wholeheartedly disagreed. The battle was an exhausting one which Obi-Wan felt might never end.  
  
"You still have much to learn, my young apprentice," Qui-Gon said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice as he placed a friendly hand on Obi- Wan's shoulder. The young man remained grave, and looked away from his master to watch the speeders zooming about the city below him.  
  
It was at times like these that he wished Qui-Gon would take him a bit more seriously and treat him like an adult instead of an inferior apprentice. Don't be ridiculous, Obi-Wan admonished himself. You are the apprentice. He's supposed to be teaching you. He sighed deeply. Qui-Gon was right. There was still so much to learn; so much he didn't understand. He wondered silently if his apprenticeship would ever end.  
  
*****  
  
The two Jedi arrived at the Council Chambers just in time to see Anakin exiting. His carefully held posture relaxed as soon as he saw Qui-Gon. "Master Qui-Gon, sir," the boy greeted him excitedly.  
  
The Jedi Master kneeled down to the boy's eyelevel while Obi-Wan remained standing. "How did the testing go?"  
  
"It lasted longer than I thought it would." Anakin hesitated and reddened, "I was pretty nervous, too. I hope I did ok."  
  
Qui-Gon smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "I'm sure you did fine."  
  
"What do we do now?" Anakin asked.  
  
Motioning toward a bench positioned along the wall, Qui-Gon replied simply, "We wait." He sat down on one end. Anakin crawled up and seated himself next to the Jedi Master, his feet dangling above the stone floor.  
  
Obi-Wan glanced at the empty space next to Anakin, but remained standing, focusing his attention out the window.  
  
"You can sit here if you want," a small voice offered.  
  
Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder to see Anakin smiling at him politely and patting the empty space to his right. The young man drew a hesitant breath, then smiled tentatively and took his place next to the boy. He folded his arms up in his heavy cloak and waited in silence for the Council to call them in.  
  
"Were you nervous when you were tested to become a Jedi?" the voice pierced the stillness again.  
  
It took Obi-Wan several seconds to realise the boy was speaking to him. He turned his attention down to Anakin. "It was...different. I grew up in the Temple."  
  
"You've lived here your whole life? Wow." Anakin gazed up at the delicately crafted ceiling in awe, then back to Obi-Wan. "You must be a really good Jedi by now."  
  
Qui-Gon chuckled softly. "I remember when Obi-Wan was only a few years older than yourself." He smiled fondly, then whispered conspiratorially to Anakin, "Don't let him fool you. He was nervous too. Not to mention clumsy."  
  
The Jedi Master spoke light-heartedly and smiled at his apprentice, but Obi- Wan still reddened and looked away, more in embarrassment than in anger.  
  
"But he turned out to be a wonderful Padawan," Qui-Gon said, privately sending Obi-Wan a comforting message through the Force as he did. When the young man looked back up, he was met with a sincere smile and the momentary sting was forgotten.  
  
"How long have you been his Padawan?" Anakin asked.  
  
Obi-Wan, not used to being addressed often, wondered why the boy didn't just ask these questions to Qui-Gon. He had to think a moment before replying, "About 12 years." Had it been that long? He was surprised at how accustomed he had grown to being Qui-Gon's Padawan, and just how quickly the time had passed.  
  
Anakin's eyes widened. "Wow, that's longer than I've been alive."  
  
Qui-Gon grinned, "You'll be surprised at how much you can learn and grow in that amount of time, Anakin. By the time you're Obi-Wan's age, you will have more skills than you can possibly imagine."  
  
Obi-Wan's immediately tensed. He shouldn't be getting the boy's hopes up, Obi-Wan chastised silently. He doesn't even know yet if the Council will allow Anakin to be trained. But before the young man could say anymore, the door to the Council Chambers opened.  
  
"It appears the Council is ready to see us," Qui-Gon said happily as he stood. The boy followed after him, a hopeful spring in his step.  
  
Obi-Wan fleetingly wondered if the boy's hopes would be fulfilled. I suppose we'll know soon enough, he thought as he entered the Jedi Council Chamber.  
  
*****  
  
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan waited in the center of the room with Anakin standing motionless between them. It inevitably made almost everyone nervous to stand before the Jedi Council, but Obi-Wan believed that if one had nothing to hide, there was no need to worry. He had full faith that the Council had come to the right decision about the boy.  
  
"Completed the testing Young Skywalker has," Yoda began  
  
"...and you have reached a decision?" Qui-Gon asked anxiously. It was abundantly clear what the Jedi thought the right decision would be. He had made it clear from the moment they'd left Tatooine.  
  
"Patience," Mace admonished.  
  
After a deliberate pause, Ki-Adi Mundi spoke. "The Force is strong with him," he admitted.  
  
Obi-Wan saw his Master's countenance brighten. "He is to be trained, then?" Qui-Gon replied, though it was more a satisfied statement than a question. Anakin glanced back at him hopefully.  
  
The slight pause that followed seemed to support Obi-Wan's prediction: what was about to be said would not be good news to Qui-Gon. His eyes turned to Master Windu, whose generally serious features held even less levity now. After a brief, but intense moment, he replied with assurance, "No, he will not be trained."  
  
All the Jedi sensed Qui-Gon's disbelief before he said a word. It was just what Obi-Wan had feared would happen. The Jedi master had never even considered the very real possibility that the council might not allow Anakin to be trained. He turned to see what Qui-Gon's reaction would be; he could already feel his Master's calm exterior slipping away.  
  
"No?!" Qui-Gon practically spat the word out. His hands went immediately to his hips in a characteristic gesture of defence.  
  
Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. How could Qui-Gon not have foreseen this decision? He knew the Jedi Council even better than Obi-Wan did, but once again had allowed his passion for a cause to blind him to reality. There is no passion, Obi-Wan recited internally, half wishing he could say it out loud to his Master, there is serenity.  
  
"He is too old," Mace said. Obi-Wan seemed to remember telling Qui-Gon the same thing. He knew the Jedi Master would have none of it. The Council probably knew this, too, but how more clearly could they state their decision? They were the authority, and it was their decision to make. Why had Qui-Gon still not learned this?  
  
Qui-Gon put forth his most pleading argument, "He is the Chosen One, you must see it."  
  
The conviction lining his Master's features evoked mixed feelings from the Padawan. He knew he should not be too quick to judge Qui-Gon's opinions. Such fervour had, admittedly, led them to seemingly impossible success on missions before. However, this was eclipsed in the young man's mind by his annoyance and slight embarrassment at the subject of that myth being brought up again. He resisted the urge to shake his head, and instead turned his attention back to the Council.  
  
Master Yoda closed his eyes and drew a thoughtful breath, as if searching for something hidden. "Mmm, clouded this boy's future is."  
  
There was a moment of silence, and Obi-Wan wondered what Qui-Gon could say in response to the wisdom the Council had provided. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his Master glimpse almost regretfully at him, which he thought strange. Then Qui-Gon spoke.  
  
"I will train him, then." Obi-Wan's head immediately turned at the remark. Qui-Gon stepped forward and placed his hands on the shoulders of the small boy in front of him. "I take Anakin as my Padawan learner," he finished resolutely.  
  
Obi-Wan set his jaw firmly to keep it from loosening in astonishment. Of all the things he had thought Qui-Gon might do to insure Anakin's training, he had never dreamed of this. Hadn't Qui-Gon just been saying how good of a Padawan Obi-Wan had been? How could he now just pretend as if Obi-Wan didn't exist? The young man could not completely keep his anger from growing, and was sure it was showing in his eyes. Qui-Gon didn't look at him, though he must have felt his apprentice's indignation through the Force. Then Obi-Wan was reminded that the Council could certainly feel his strong emotions as well, and attempted to calm himself.  
  
"An apprentice you have, Qui-Gon," Yoda replied. "Impossible to take on a second."  
  
"The code forbids it," Mace was quick to note.  
  
He isn't asking for a second Padawan, he's asking for a new one. Obi-Wan suspected the Council understood this as well. He did his best to remain passive, staring straight ahead and out one of the windows so as not to risk locking eyes with any of the Council members.  
  
"Obi-Wan is ready," Qui-Gon said with confidence.  
  
"I am ready to face the trials," Obi-Wan spoke up earnestly, stepping forward before even thinking. He didn't want to have to think about what was occurring too much. It would only anger him further. He could only try to salvage some dignity.  
  
"Our own council we will keep on who is ready," Yoda chided, always ready to keep the Jedi humble.  
  
Then Qui-Gon spoke up, "... he is headstrong, and he has much to learn of the living Force, but he is capable."  
  
Obi-Wan dropped his eyes to the floor, realising that the only positive thing his Master had said of him in his defence was that he was 'capable'. If that was truly the most Qui-Gon could say of him to the Council, perhaps he really wasn't ready to face the trials. But why had he waited until now to say anything? Certainly Obi-Wan had known his Master to be frustrated with him, but there had to be something positive he could say about him.  
  
"There is little more he can learn from me," was all that Qui-Gon added. Or little more you will teach me, Obi-Wan thought bitterly. He felt a dangerously familiar anger building within him, which he conveyed to Qui- Gon with a sour expression and undoubtedly through the Force. His Master cast a tentative glance his way, but seemed unable to look directly at his Padawan. Yoda brought their attentions back.  
  
"Young Skywalker's fate will be decided later."  
  
Obi-Wan realised that he had completely blocked out any thought of Anakin. The boy had been standing still the entire time, but Obi-Wan had not been paying attention to his emotions. Now he sensed apprehension and fear radiating from the boy. And this is the Chosen One? A frightened child? But clearly it didn't matter what he thought or said; Qui-Gon had shown firmly where he stood on the issue. The Council members were speaking of the continuing mission, which Obi-Wan knew he should pay attention to. He did his best to calm himself, and it worked a little; but he still couldn't really focus on what the Council was saying. Suddenly he just wanted out of the room. He heard Mace say something about going back to Naboo. Then the words finally came.  
  
"May the Force be with you," Yoda said in dismissal.  
  
Obi-Wan was the first to bow, an automatic gesture, before turning and quickly exiting the Council chambers. Anakin and Qui-Gon followed him, a few paces behind. They walked the entire distance back to the ship without so much as a word or an exchanged glance. *****  
  
As soon as they boarded the ship, Qui-Gon headed towards the cockpit to send a message telling the Queen they were prepared to escort her back to Naboo. Anakin followed eagerly in his footsteps. Without giving a justification, Obi-Wan headed in the other direction, toward his sleeping chamber. He suspected Qui-Gon knew his reasoning already, and the Jedi Master did nothing to stop him. Once inside the small room, he locked the door for privacy and sank down onto his sleepcouch. He sat with his hands folded under his chin and elbows resting on his knees. His eyes roamed around the room, not looking for anything in particular, and not really seeing anyway; his brooding thoughts consumed him.  
  
He had been trying to indicate to Qui-Gon for the past few months that he was ready for the trials. Of course, he would never come right out and say it out of respect for his Master's judgement. Qui-Gon had expressed his feeling that Obi-Wan still needed a greater understanding of the living Force before he was made a knight. He was constantly reminding his Padawan to focus on the present and draw on the strength of the Force as it flowed around him. But didn't someone have to be mindful of the future? Obi-Wan was receiving premonitions more and more often, and he hardly felt he should be ignoring them. Master Yoda seemed to want to encourage this skill, but Master Qui-Gon stressed the importance of the aspect of the Force he himself felt most connected to. Obi-Wan was caught in the middle, struggling to find a balance.  
  
Now suddenly he feels I'm ready? Obi-Wan could not understand it. He knew Qui-Gon would not have changed his mind so easily. It was clear that he had simply given up, and moved on. And to what? Anakin Skywalker? Some foolish notion of bringing balance to the Force? Obi-Wan exhaled angrily. He had wanted to be made a knight, but not like this. Yet the Council had not even said they would make him a knight. Quite the opposite, actually. It had seemed as though they too felt he was not ready. What was he to do, then? Complete his apprenticeship under Qui-Gon while Anakin tagged along on every mission? Bringing the boy to Naboo was foolish and dangerous. The only reason for having him there was that Qui-Gon wanted him to be there.  
  
Obi-Wan rubbed his forehead and tried to draw his thoughts away from what had just happened with the Council, but to no avail. He needed something to distract himself. His eyes suddenly focused on a round metallic object setting on the floor at the end of the sleepcouch- a training probe. Without hesitation, he grabbed it and exited his room. With the Queen and her entourage gone, the hallways were empty and still. The young Jedi made his way to the main hold, hoping Qui-Gon and the others were still in the cockpit. Thankfully, there was no one there.  
  
Obi-Wan held the probe out and pressed a small button on it, causing it to hover at eyelevel, waiting. He drew his lightsabre and flicked it on in one ingrained motion. Sensing the weapon's ignition, the training probe buzzed to life and began moving in slow, random arcs. Suddenly, it fired at the Jedi, who deftly blocked the blast. He kept his eyes locked on the floating figure, and readied himself for another attack. The probe fired at his right knee, quickly followed by a shot at his head. Obi-Wan blocked both with one upward motion. His momentum forced him to continue spinning around in the same direction, barely making it back in time to see the next shot at his chest so he could block it. The blade hit the bolt in a swing, sending the shot ricocheting towards the other wall. An astromech droid gave off a series of annoyed beeps as it narrowly missed being scorched. The sound caught Obi-Wan's attention, and he threw a glance towards the little blue droid. When he did, the probe fired again, this time catching him off guard and landing a stinging shot on his right shoulder. The mild pain stirred up Obi-Wan's latent anger, and he made a quick cut at the buzzing sphere. The probe quickly dodged backwards and fired at Obi-Wan's left shoulder, again hitting his target.  
  
The young man drew a sharp breath of frustration and deactivated his lightsabre, causing the training probe to idle. He reached up and took it in his hand, switching it off as he did. He leaned against the wall and let out a sigh of frustration. "Stupid," he muttered. The little astromech unit bleeped in what Obi-Wan could have almost sworn to be agreement. He cast a glance at it, then sat down at the table. It was stupid to let himself get angry, he should know that. If only he could learn to tap into the Force, he would have been able to relax. He probably wouldn't even need to see the probe to deflect its shots. But he just couldn't do it, and it left his reflexes slower than he would have liked. Maybe he really wasn't ready to be a knight yet. He'd probably get himself shot on his first mission.  
  
Anakin, on the other hand, already had amazing reflexes. There was no denying that the boy must have a great natural connection to the Force to be able to pilot a podracer like he had. Obi-Wan had never denied that. In fact, he had nothing personal against Anakin. There just seemed to be too much danger in training someone with so much resentment in him. Being in slavery his whole life had to have effected the boy. Why couldn't Obi-Wan make Qui-Gon understand that? Perhaps the problem was that he had been making it too personal. Qui-Gon probably saw him as jealous or spiteful of the boy. On the contrary, Anakin had been very polite and amiable towards Obi-Wan and he seemed like a nice enough boy. But none of that could cover up the fact that he should not be trained.  
  
Just then, Qui-Gon and Anakin came into the hold from the direction of the cockpit. Obi-Wan looked up at Qui-Gon. When he spoke, he made sure to keep his tone neutral so as not to convey any anger towards his Master; anger would only cloud his mind. "Where are you going?" he asked.  
  
Qui-Gon seemed to notice the shift in Obi-Wan's demeanor, and relaxed a little. "The Queen should be arriving anytime. We're just going out to greet her."  
  
"Then I'll come too," Obi-Wan said as he set the training probe on the table and stood. There was a bleep behind him, and he turned back to see the astromech droid wheeling down after them. He shook his head.  
  
"Come on Artoo," Anakin said, smiling at the little droid. "Let's go get some fresh air." The two led the way down the ramp.  
  
Qui-Gon did not follow immediately, but instead turned to his apprentice. Obi-Wan spoke first, "Master, I'm sorry if I've let myself become angry with you. It's just that I think you're letting your personal feelings about the boy's potential cloud your judgement. I think you should accept the Council's decision." The words sounded a little stronger than he had planned.  
  
Qui-Gon looked mildly irked at the comment. "Disagreement is no reason for disrespect, Obi-Wan," he rebuked as he made his way down the ramp.  
  
The Padawan matched his stride as they stepped onto the landing platform. "It's not disrespect, Master, it's the truth," he said, a hint of his own ire creeping into his voice.  
  
"From your point of view," Qui-Gon replied easily.  
  
Obi-Wan hated it when he said things like that. It was only an excuse to not have to admit that one of them was ultimately wrong. "The boy is dangerous," he replied pointedly. "They all sense it, why can't you?"  
  
"His fate is uncertain," Qui-Gon said, as he turned to face his apprentice. "He's not dangerous. The Council will decide Anakin's future, that should be enough for you," he said with a touch of irony. "Now get on board," he commanded.  
  
Obi-Wan wanted to say something more in reply, but he was all out of arguments. He looked up at his towering Master and the last of his resolve crumbled. It was useless to argue with a Jedi Master when he was only a Padawan. Slowly, he turned away, noticing for the first time that the boy had heard everything they'd just said. Obi-Wan felt slightly regretful as he headed back to the ship, defeated.  
  
*****  
  
Neither Qui-Gon nor Obi-Wan was sure exactly what the Queen hoped to accomplish in returning to Naboo, but they had been instructed by the Council to accompany her back to her home planet and they did not argue. They had been on enough diplomatic missions to know that things usually didn't turn out the way they had planned, but they turned out nonetheless. After two days of travel, the Queen's transport quietly landed in the foggy marshes of Naboo. The small party exited, grateful for a breath of clean air, but aware of the imminent danger that awaited them in the days to come.  
  
"Gunga City issen berry far," Jar-Jar's loud voice disrupted the calm scene, causing Obi-Wan to wince in irritation. The gungan, once again oblivious to the annoyance he was causing, continued. "Meesa go und spek wit da Boss Nass. Graaand Gunga army can be helpen to da Naboo, youssen see!" Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a questioning look.  
  
"Perhaps Obi-Wan should accompany you. It could be dangerous," the Jedi Master suggested tactfully, with a glance at his padawan.  
  
"Ah, no, dats okay. Mesa know da way," Jar-Jar insisted.  
  
"Just so he knows the way," Qui-Gon added, "It may be of use in the future." He threw a sidelong glance at his apprentice, who smiled subtly. Obi-Wan understood the real reason Qui-Gon wanted him to go with Jar-Jar- the Jedi Master did not trust the gungan to be left alone. It was refreshing to Obi-Wan to know that his master shared in this opinion of the creature, even if Qui-Gon was more sympathetic towards him.  
  
"Uh, okie day," Jar-Jar said with a shrug. "Come on Obi, disa way!" he trotted enthusiastically into the woods.  
  
Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a skeptic look, which provoked a smile from the Jedi Master, before slowly following Jar-Jar through the marshy woods. The gungan was quite a ways ahead of him, but he was in no hurry to catch up. As long as he could keep him in sight, Obi-Wan was fine with keeping his distance. Jar-Jar was well-intentioned enough, but his antics had been grinding on Obi-Wan's nerves since the moment they'd met. He knew he should show compassion, but what good was it if it was false? And it wasn't as though Obi-Wan were cold hearted. He had always thought of himself as caring, but on a broader level. Qui-Gon had always been fond of growing attached to individuals in need of help, but Obi-Wan didn't understand the point of jeopardizing a mission just to save an individual. After all, the mission was of great importance to all the people of Naboo, and risking it on this one bumbling gungan seemed to be very dangerous. Qui-Gon had taken the same kind of risk trusting their fates to Anakin. You can only gamble so many times before you'll lose, Obi-Wan thought.  
  
"Hurry! Wesa amos dare!" Jar-Jar called from up ahead, waving back wildly to the young Jedi. In his exuberance, his feet became tangled in a fallen branch and he stumbled forward into the marsh. He immediately began thrashing about, getting himself more tangled.  
  
Sighing, Obi-Wan slowly approached the excited gungan and placed a hand on his shoulder. After using the Force to calm him, Obi-Wan grabbed Jar-Jar by the arm and yanked him up to a standing position. The gungan smiled sheepishly and Obi-Wan had to keep himself from shaking his head. Pathetic, he thought in exasperation, but was immediately glad he had not voiced it. He had jokingly referred to Anakin as a pathetic life form, and though Qui- Gon knew it was in jest, Obi-Wan could sense that it upset his master. It had been a rash comment, sprung from jealousy, and Obi-Wan now berated himself for it. A Jedi was not jealous or petty as he had been. Qui-Gon was right; there was still much for him to learn. Yet, in spite of that, Qui- Gon believed he was ready for the trials. He suddenly realised that he hadn't even thanked Qui-Gon for his faith.  
  
"Obi!" Jar-Jar called, bringing the young Jedi out of his thoughts. "Yousa comin?" he motioned towards the lake.  
  
Obi-Wan hesitated before answering. Perhaps he should stop acting so condescending towards the gungan. He was, after all, supposed to be helping the peoples of Naboo, not belittling them. "You can go on by yourself. I trust you can find your way back to the ship from here."  
  
Jar-Jar looked pleasantly surprised. He nodded his head fervently, "Don worry, Obi! Mesa no let da Jedi down." He let out a joyful cry as he somersaulted into the lake, splashing water everywhere.  
  
Obi-Wan stepped back quickly to avoid being drenched. He hoped he was doing the right thing in letting the gungan travel to the city alone. Qui-Gon had sent him along with Jar-Jar to make sure nothing happened. Or maybe it was just a test of Obi-Wan's patience. After all, the Jedi Master had always seemed to delight in making Obi-Wan face the things he had difficulty with. At first, such tests had annoyed Obi-Wan to no end, but he had gradually come to realise that Qui-Gon was only trying to teach him. He had to admit, though he rarely saw the point at the time, such exercises had always taught him valuable lessons, when he had bothered to pay attention.  
  
He sighed raggedly as he turned to head back to the ship. It was unfair to have judged Qui-Gon's actions so harshly. He had always been an excellent mentor and teacher, and he often displayed wisdom and kindness that Obi-Wan knew he himself could not match. As the young man trudged through the shallow, murky water of the bog, he began to feel ashamed of his actions on the mission, especially regarding the boy. Anakin had, after all, saved them all; but so caught up in his own anger over Qui-Gon's blind faith in Anakin was he that Obi-Wan had not so much as uttered a thank you to the boy. It was more than his caution that had made Obi-Wan so opposed to the idea. Though he had tried to push it to the back of his mind, an underlying jealousy had fuelled his wariness of Anakin.  
  
Obi-Wan was humiliated by his childishness. He had known Qui-Gon long enough that he should trust his judgment, and yet he had completely ignored the boy's clear potential. It wasn't out of pity that Qui-Gon had freed Anakin from slavery, Obi-Wan realised; the Jedi truly had faith in the boy. Obi-Wan was mortified by his presumption that he knew better than Qui-Gon what Anakin's fate should be. He was still only a padawan, and yet he'd had the nerve to openly tell Qui-Gon he was wrong. What had Qui-Gon done to deserve such treatment? He had only ever cared for Obi-Wan and given him gentle guidance all the years he had been his master. He had been patient with his hard-headed padawan through tough times, but had not failed to acknowledge his accomplishments. Announcing before the Council that he felt Obi-Wan ready to take the trials was not a snub- far from it. Qui-Gon was displaying his faith in his apprentice and Obi-Wan had been nothing but rude towards him because of it.  
  
If Qui-Gon wished to take Anakin as his new apprentice, Obi-Wan should be happy. He had known no better teacher than Qui-Gon, save for Yoda, and no one else was better equipped to train someone of Anakin's potential. That guidance was not something strictly for Obi-Wan. Masters typically took on several apprentices throughout their lifetimes; Qui-Gon had had several before Obi-Wan. It was both foolish and selfish to think that he would never take on another, but Obi-Wan had never really considered that he probably would. Now that it was a definite possibility, he was finding it curiously difficult to let go. Jedi were not supposed to have specific attachments. They were all as one large family, but Obi-Wan could not help but feel that Qui-Gon had been nothing short of a father to him. The thought of becoming a knight and being on his own was both an exciting and daunting prospect. Still, he had to remind himself that Qui-Gon would be there still, still a part of the nebulous family of the Jedi. But whether or not the Council granted Qui-Gon's request to train the boy, Obi-Wan knew he would do it anyway. Qui-Gon had never had a problem defying the Council, and Obi-Wan had a hard time believing they would do anything so drastic as throwing him out of the order. The young man resigned himself to the fact that some things were simply meant to be by the will of the Force. Who was he to argue with that?  
  
As he entered the clearing where the Queen's ship had landed, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon standing just where he had been before. He knew he had to apologize to him, but wasn't quite sure how to. He had never been the best with words.  
  
"Jar-Jar is on his way to the gungan city, Master," he said as he approached, wondering how Qui-Gon would react to his returning without Jar- Jar.  
  
Qui-Gon did not seem in the least surprised. "Good," he replied without turning around. He seemed distracted, and Obi-Wan realised he must be thinking about the mission. He silently cursed himself for becoming so caught up in personal matters that he had almost forgotten about their objective.  
  
"Do you think the Queen's idea will work?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
"The gungans will not be easily swayed. And we cannot use our power to help her," Qui-Gon seemed worried, and perhaps upset with Obi-Wan, which the young man understood.  
  
Obi-Wan struggled to find the right apologetic words. "I'm...I'm sorry for my behavior, master," he said, staring at the ground remorsefully. "It's not my place to disagree with you about the boy." Slowly, as his padawan's words registered, Qui-Gon turned his attention down to the younger man. "And I am grateful you think I'm ready to take the trials," Obi-Wan added sincerely.  
  
"You've been a good apprentice, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said with a sincere smile. A wave of relief passed over the young man. He was glad Qui-Gon was not angry at him, but then again, Qui-Gon had always been more understanding that himself. "And you're a much wiser man than I am," the Jedi Master added, laying a hand on his apprentice's shoulder. "I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight."  
  
Obi-Wan didn't quite know what to say. "I shall try, Master," he managed after a moment. Over the years, Obi-Wan had learned that his Master's judgment was more often than not right, but he wasn't sure he deserved this praise. He wasn't sure if he could live up to Qui-Gon's prediction, and he certainly wasn't sure about his own wisdom. But if Qui-Gon's faith was not earned easily. Obi-Wan only hoped he would not fail him.  
  
*****  
  
"Obi-Wan," a familiar voice gently seeped through the grey haze of the young man's sleep, accompanied by a light nudge on his shoulder. As he crept into consciousness, he drew a deep breath and cracked his eyes open so as not to be blinded by the morning sun. He found, however, that Qui-Gon was squatting next to him in an almost eerie predawn light. He opened his eyes all the way and blinked a few times.  
  
"It's early," he noted, suppressing a yawn. For a moment, he had a peculiar urge to roll back over into the mossy ground, cover his head with his cloak, and go back to sleep. When the rest of the Queen's entourage had arrived yesterday, the Jedi and Anakin had voluntarily given up their places on the Queen's ship and opted for a tent outside with the gathering gungan troops. Naboo had such a pleasant environment that the night had almost been more restful than sleeping aboard the sterile starship.  
  
"It is early and there is much to be done," Qui-Gon replied as he stood.  
  
He was right, of course. Lying around in the woods all day was not a luxury they could afford. Obi-Wan quickly pushed the brief, frivolous thoughts from his head to focus on the serious task that lay ahead of them. He propped himself up on his elbows and saw Anakin across the tent, sleeping peacefully. "What about the boy, master?"  
  
Qui-Gon glanced at the sleeping child. "Let him sleep a while longer. He has enough ahead of him today and enough already behind. We should afford him a few more moments of peace."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded slightly as he sat up, glad that they agreed about the boy for once. It had only been a few days ago that Anakin had been a slave on Tatooine with little hope for a different future. Obi-Wan worried that the rapid changes in the boy's life would only compound the emotional difficulties he already had. It created even more doubt in his mind as to whether or not he should be trained, but he tried to suppress them. Qui-Gon believes in him, he reminded himself. As he has always believed in me. Even when I did not. The Jedi Master's faith was not something to be taken lightly.  
  
Qui-Gon extended a hand to his apprentice and helped him up off the ground. Obi-Wan picked up his cloak, dusted the remnants of moss from it, and put it on. He noticed the older man seemed worried as he gazed out the opening of the tent. "Do you think this plan will work?" he asked.  
  
A frown creased the edges of the Jedi Master's mouth. "I'm not as worried about the plan as I am about... other complications..."  
  
Obi-Wan knew exactly what he was speaking of. "The Sith," he said, finishing Qui-Gon's thoughts.  
  
"The Council instructed us to come here in order to protect the Queen from him."  
  
"But you're not certain it's the Queen he's after." Obi-Wan had sensed the feeling through their bond. Qui-Gon gave him a knowing look. "I believe you may be right."  
  
Qui-Gon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "There's some deeper evil at work, you sensed it yourself from the beginning of the mission." Obi-Wan looked surprised, but happily so, that his master had not forgotten his premonition. "It is no coincidence that the Sith has chosen to reveal himself at this time. But I can't say I know why he has." After a few moments of deep contemplation, Qui-Gon wiped the worry from his face and took on a more natural tone. "We should not let this keep us from the moment. There is too much of importance to be done here to let ourselves be caught up in the elusive."  
  
Obi-Wan recognized the gentle counselling; he had been reminded to focus on the moment quite enough times to recognize the suggestion in all its forms. "Yes, Master," he replied dutifully as he followed Qui-Gon out of the tent.  
  
The sun was just breaking over the hills, but already the gungans were up and preparing for battle. They were scattered about in a very loose fashion, some suiting up in their armor, some eating, and some readying the bipedal steeds the select warriors would ride. The bunch looked somewhat ragged, but what their organizational skills left to doubt, the stolid looks on their faces made up for. It was clear that they were prepared to do their part in the fight against the Trade Federation. Assembled in a more orderly fashion, the Nubian pilots stood in full gear around the Queen, who was giving a speech. The Jedi waited until she had finished and the group had disbanded to approach her.  
  
"Master Jedi," she greeted regally.  
  
Qui-Gon bowed and offered a polite, "Your highness." Obi-Wan bowed as well, though he had not been specifically addressed.  
  
"Will you be accompanying my strike team to the palace?" she asked.  
  
"Our duty is to protect you," Qui-Gon answered.  
  
"My guards are capable," the Queen said with slight indignation in her voice, indicating her handmaidens and Panaka's small group. Then she added, "But your presence is always welcomed and appreciated." She paused, as if hesitating, then added, "And will you be bringing Anakin with you, as well?"  
  
Obi-Wan was a little surprised at the use of the boy's first name, but if Qui-Gon shared the sentiment, he did not show it. Instead, he smiled slightly and replied, "It would not be safe to leave him here. Anakin is my charge and therefore he will come with me."  
  
The Queen seemed happy to hear this, or at least as happy as her position allowed her to seem. Obi-Wan realised that he had underestimated how much she must care for the boy. Clearly they had become closer friends in those few days in Mos Espa than he had thought. Both he and Qui-Gon had known about the decoy- it was very hard to fool a Jedi- but he had never really had contact with the Queen while in her handmaiden persona. Anakin, however, had been visibly shocked when he learned that his friend Padmé was in fact the Queen. The two had not spoken since then, and Obi-Wan had forgotten all about it. But it was nice to know the Queen had not, and that behind all the formality lay a human being. Obi-Wan understood her position perfectly well- the Jedi were often thought of as hollow façades of people by many.  
  
The ever-present Captain Panaka, however, disagreed. "Your highness, if I may say so," he interjected in his reprimanding tone. "I do not believe it is wise to bring this boy into battle with us."  
  
"It would be more remiss of us to leave him here at this battle. If you fear he will get in the way, you are mistaken," she scolded, then glanced at Qui-Gon. "And Master Jinn is correct. The boy's mother entrusted him with her son. It is the safest place for him. Besides, Anakin is brave." Panaka's face registered distinct doubt, but he nodded and backed down.  
  
"He is not coming with us to fight," Qui-Gon assured them. "He is coming so that we may insure he stays out of the fight."  
  
Obi-Wan realised he had not even thought of what would happen to Anakin during the battle, but he agreed that Qui-Gon was right. It was not a perfect option by any means for the boy to come with them; he would be in the heart of a heated battle. Yet it was the only viable option. He only hoped Anakin would be safe as Qui-Gon had promised. If anything happened to the boy, the Jedi Master would surely be devastated.  
  
*****  
  
It was midday by the time the small group reached Theed. The Trade Federation's defensive forces were significantly diminished due to the battle with the gungans. The distraction was working. The Queen, with the Jedi, Anakin, and several others, approached the palace from one side of the street. They all walked softly so as not to alert the battle droids on patrol. The Queen pulled out a laserlight and signalled silently to Panaka, who was hiding under a bridge across the square. He motioned to the rest of his group to join him as soon as he received the signal.  
  
Qui-Gon turned quickly and knelt down in front of Anakin, placing his hands on the boy's arms. "Once we get inside, you find a safe place to hide and stay there," he ordered seriously.  
  
"Sure," Anakin replied nonchalantly.  
  
"Stay there," Qui-Gon advised more light-heartedly. To Obi-Wan, it sounded like the boy was not entirely set on keeping his promise, but Qui-Gon did not seem worried about it, so he said nothing. After all, Qui-Gon had such an understanding with Anakin, and Obi-Wan had hardly even said anything to him. But he did know Qui-Gon and his teaching methods very well, so he was in no position to doubt him.  
  
Just then, fire broke out from Panaka's squad under the bridge. The droid sentry immediately turned their attention on their attackers, failing to notice the smaller group led by the Queen on their flank. A few droids caught site of them and fired, but the Jedi already had their lightsabres ignited, and easily deflected the shots. The group sneaked into the large side doors of the palace before any of the droid tanks could turn their cannons on them. The Queen quickly led the way down the hall to the hangar. As soon as the door opened, the two Jedi stepped in and started deflecting shots. The Queen and her guards were behind, firing at the droids guarding the Nubian fighters. Anakin was in the back with R2-D2, shielded by everyone else.  
  
The droids on guard reacted quickly to the invading presence, asking no question as they had when the Jedi had escaped Naboo with the Queen before. This time, they were in battle mode right away, firing upon the invading group. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had no trouble deflecting the blaster bolts back at the droids, but the others had no protection. They had to make their move quickly.  
  
Suddenly, Anakin was right next to Qui-Gon with no one else to guard him. "Ani, find cover. Quick!" The Jedi Master's voice held no hint of joking this time, and the boy obeyed immediately, running off to the side and taking cover behind a crate.  
  
"Get to your ships!" the Queen yelled to the pilots, who obeyed as quickly as possible. The others did their best to shoot down the droids, but a few were shot in the process. Once one ship was away, however, the droids began faltering in their attack, and the others were also able to take off. They quickly got rid of the remaining droids, and everyone was able to take a few calming breaths. Both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon extinguished their lightsabres. The Queen led the remaining Nubians back the way they had come. Their job was to capture the Viceroy. The Jedi followed after them.  
  
"Hey," a small voice called out. Obi-Wan turned his head to see Anakin standing in the cockpit of one of the parked fighters. "Wait for me!"  
  
"Anakin, stay where you are, you'll be safe there," Qui-Gon said sternly as they continued walking.  
  
"But I-"  
  
"Stay in that cockpit," Qui-Gon ordered. The boy said nothing more, which Obi-Wan took to mean that he would stay there. Hopefully. They had other things to worry about without having to keep track of Anakin.  
  
The now even smaller group headed for the large hangar doors. Before they had reached them, however, they opened, revealing a single shadowy cloaked figure standing on the other side. Panaka jumped back with a start and the rest of the group came to a sudden halt. Except for the Jedi. The cloaked figure slowly gazed up, his yellow eyes staring steadily ahead. The Queen was right in front of him. He probably could have killed her in one quick movement if that were his objective. But instead he stared past the Queen and her guards. He stared right at the Jedi. Just as we suspected, Obi-Wan thought. He was never after the Queen at all. Though it reassured him of his earlier summation, the thought made Obi-Wan tense considerably.  
  
"We'll handle this," Qui-Gon said calmly.  
  
"We'll take the long way," the Queen said, her guards following her to the side without questioning.  
  
Obi-Wan had suspected this confrontation would occur- so had Qui-Gon- but he could not say for sure that he was prepared for it. But who could? The Jedi had not fought with the Sith for ages. True, he had prepared thoroughly in one-on-one lightsabre combat at the Temple, but who among the Jedi had really expected to face a Sith? Obi-Wan pushed away his thoughts as much as possible. Focus on the moment, he reminded himself. Don't think. He tried to push away all emotion- apprehension, fear, exhilaration- and instead called on the living Force. He could already feel it radiating from Qui-Gon, who was standing next to him.  
  
The Sith removed his hood. The Jedi removed their cloaks. For a moment, both sides simply stared each other down. Either could have easily made a quick move in hopes of getting the upperhand, but instead there was a strange sense of almost hallowed waiting. This was the sort of battle that had not been fought in ages. The Sith drew his weapon with a flourish, holding it horizontally and igniting it. After a meaningful beat, he ignited the other side, so that both were glowing lethally red. The double- bladed lightsabre was not one either Jedi had practiced with or against. It's all for show and intimidation, Obi-Wan thought. The Sith certainly had confidence; he would match it with his own. Without flinching, he drew his white-blue sabre into a ready stance. Qui-Gon's emerald blade glowed next to him. With a low, guttural growl, the dark warrior struck out at the Jedi.  
  
The Force surged through Obi-Wan, and before he even realised what was happening, he leapt over his opponent's head in a powerful twisting move. He immediately struck out at the Sith from behind as Qui-Gon attacked from the front. They worked together, communicating without exchanging words, allowed the Force connection between them to control their actions. But the Sith was also attuned to the Force, and quickly ducked the initial attack. He advanced on Qui-Gon with a series of his own blows. Obi-Wan unleashed a series of attacks from behind, only to be blocked each time. He realised with latent indignation that the Sith was only attacking Qui-Gon, trying to brush him away casually in the process.  
  
Determined to remind the Sith of his presence, the young man spun around, throwing his weight into a strike at his opponent's legs. To Obi-Wan's disillusion, the Sith managed to block the attack, at the same time kicking Qui-Gon and sending him to the ground. Obi-Wan was momentarily alone in his battle. The Sith spun in the air exorbitantly, flinging a stray piece of scrap into the air with the Force. Obi-Wan easily recognized the grandstanding, and refused to back down. This dark lord might believe the padawan was not a threat, but Obi-Wan was determined not to let himself be belittled. He strutted confidently towards his opponent, twirling his lightsabre confidently. In reply, the Sith flourished his double-blade and locked lightsabres once again with Obi-Wan. Suddenly, Qui-Gon was on Obi- Wan's left, boosting his padawan's confidence even more. Calling on the Force for a burst of strength and speed, Obi-Wan whirled around, brandishing his lightsabre in a spectacular strike. But instead of trying to block the young man's blade, the Sith lashed out, unexpectedly kicking Obi-Wan in the head. The blow was filled with the power of the Force, and sent an unsuspecting Obi-Wan flying backwards across the room.  
  
Obi-Wan rolled to a careful stop so as not to impale himself. Qui-Gon charged ahead after the Sith, and his apprentice cursed himself for being so stupid and leaving Qui-Gon to fight alone. As he picked himself up off the ground, he burned with indignation against the dark warrior for making him look and feel like a fool. He caught up to the duelling pair, determined not to let himself be humiliated again. This time he locked blades with the Sith and tried to engage him long enough for Qui-Gon to make an unhindered attack. The dark lord somehow managed to spin himself away from both Jedi, retreating out of their reach to the edge of a platform and taking on a ready stance. Obi-Wan briefly took in the new room- it was a maze of narrow catwalks with no railings. The fighting would be much more precarious, and he would have to watch not only his opponent but his footing. As the Sith stared them down hungrily, Qui-Gon sent Obi-Wan a wordless message of reassurance, but it seemed to also say, as always, Do not lose sight of the moment, Padawan. Obi-Wan stared at the Sith intensely, then lunged forward as if to attack, but drew back at the last second. Having already anticipated his apprentice's move, Qui-Gon struck out at the Sith. But he had not fallen for it, and easily blocked Qui-Gon's blade, then flipped backwards over a gap onto one of the catwalks.  
  
The two Jedi leapt after him, and for a moment, he seemed confused as to who he should be focusing on. Master and Padawan struck at the same moment, but the Sith caught both blades with his own. For a moment, all three stood locked together. In a surge of power, the Sith pushed both men off to his left and sprinted off down the catwalk. The Jedi jogged after him, but failed to reach him before he made an enormous Force-jump up onto the next level. He stood several stories above them, looking down with a wicked, taunting grin. Obi-Wan stared up, gauging the distance. After doing the same, Qui-Gon gave his Padawan a questioning look. Without hesitation, the young man nodded fervently. He was sure he could make it. Qui-Gon gave no hint of doubt, which encouraged Obi-Wan even more. In a split second, both men hurtled up to the catwalk where the Sith awaited, landing on either side of him with lightsabres ready. The Sith, predictably, chose to attack Qui-Gon, guarding Obi-Wan behind him without so much as a backwards glance. He forced the Jedi Master closer to a large, luminescent cylinder of energy. He followed Qui-Gon onto the rounded catwalk, and Obi-Wan was right behind him.  
  
The air crackled not only with the sound of lightsabres clashing, but with the sound of the energy field. It was so close to the combatants that Obi- Wan could feel the air around him tingling. The Sith was completely occupied with both Qui-Gon and trying not to fall into the energy field. Obi-Wan saw his opening. He slashed at the dark warrior quickly, but had underestimated the Sith's level of Force awareness. Obi-Wan found his blow deflected and his lightsabre blade pinned helplessly to the Sith's. He tried hopelessly to pull away, but the Sith quickly whirled around, delivering another intentionally demeaning kick to the head. This time when he rolled to the floor, he found himself on a ledge. He lost his grip on his lightsabre as his momentum pulled him helplessly over the edge.  
  
As he sailed through the air, Obi-Wan was afforded a moment of extreme clarity, and he pushed aside all other distractions to reach out with the Force. He guided his lightsabre onto the catwalk below him, and tried his best to land there himself. Unfortunately, he was not able to come to a complete stop, and he rolled over the edge. For once, though, he was able to focus on the moment, and was very glad he did. Without even realising it, his hands grasped the edge of the catwalk and prevented him from plummeting any further. With a small boost from the Force, Obi-Wan was able to pull himself back up onto the catwalk. He immediately grabbed his lightsabre and gazed up to locate Qui-Gon and the Sith. He spotted them one level above himself, heading for a hallway at the other side of the huge room. Without hesitation, Obi-Wan called on the Force once more, putting as much energy as possible into another tremendous jump. By the time he had reached the catwalk, Qui-Gon and the Sith were several hundred meters away, heading into a hall filled with numerous red laser shield walls. Obi-Wan ran as fast as he could to catch up, but his strenuous use of the Force was wearing him down. He wanted to use it to give him the super speed needed to catch up to the others, but found he could do no more than run as quickly as his body would allow. He had thought that the two of them would be able to defeat the Sith easily, but he had vastly underestimated their opponent. It was clear now just how well trained he was in the Force and in sabre combat. Obi-Wan could not leave Qui-Gon to fight him alone. He could catch up to them, and he and Qui-Gon could work together- really work together as opposed to Obi-Wan letting his emotions distract him- to overpower the Sith. His muscles strained as he sprinted down the catwalk.  
  
Just then, the shields began to close. They started at the far end of the hallway, and Obi-Wan pushed himself harder in a vain hope to catch up with Qui-Gon. It was too late. The Sith and Qui-Gon wound up in adjoining compartments, and Obi-Wan was still at the other end of the hallway. He had to skid to a stop to avoid running into the shield that snapped in place in front of him. He watched as Qui-Gon extinguished his lightsabre and dropped calmly to a knee. Obi-Wan likewise turned his weapon off, but chose to remain standing. The Sith tapped the shield with one end of his lightsabre blade tauntingly, then turned it off and began pacing back and forth, waiting. He seemed agitated by Qui-Gon's quiet, meditative stance. Obi-Wan marvelled at the willpower it must take his master to calm himself and call on the Force in the middle of such a fierce battle. He wished he could do the same, but he was simply too anxious, too worried about whether or not he was going to be able to reach the other two combatants the next time the shields opened before they closed once again, locking him out. He ground his teeth, resolving to reach the other end of the hallway no matter how difficult it was. Qui-Gon had repeatedly expressed his faith in Obi-Wan, and the young man was not about to let him down now, at this crucial moment.  
  
Obi-Wan waited for what seemed like hours, but what he knew was only a matter of minutes. All the while, the Sith continued to pace back and forth like a caged animal waiting to be unleashed so it could pounce on its prey. Pacing, pacing. The shields would open at any minute, he could sense it. Unable to wait any long, he ignited his lightsabre. A second later, the shields at the far end of the hall where Qui-Gon and the Sith were opened up, and the two began duelling fiercely once again. Obi-Wan stood in a ready stance as one by one the other shields opened. Finally, the one in front of him released and he bolted down the hallway, lightsabre in hand. There were only four shields left to pass. Now three. Now two. Now only one remained- and closed inches in front of his face. He screeched to a halt and took a few ragged breaths, cursing himself for being too slow. Now he could only watch helplessly as the Sith backed Qui-Gon around the edge of a circular pit that went for who knew how deep into the ground. The young man swayed side-to-side, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously as he watched. He gripped his now extinguished lightsabre tightly in his sweaty right hand. He watched as the Sith attacked mercilessly, one blade after the other, and Qui-Gon struggled to block each move.  
  
A horrible sense of urgent worry coursed through Obi-Wan, but it was not so much due to what he was seeing take place as what he could sense was going to happen. It was an ominous, unclear premonition that he could not completely decipher, but certainly could not ignore. His jaw slacked as he watched the fight grow in intensity. The Sith blocked an overhead strike, pushing Qui-Gon's arms backwards. Suddenly, he hit the Jedi Master under the chin, stunning him momentarily. It was just long enough for the dark lord to spin around and stab one end of his blade straight through Qui- Gon's chest.  
  
Obi-Wan felt as though he himself had been stabbed in the heart. All the air in his lungs rushed out in an involuntary cry of horror. The single word of disbelief that escaped could not begin to express his shock. This could not be happening. It wasn't possible. There were two of them against only one Sith, and they were both among the most skilled Jedi swordsmen. They had been through so many dangerous situations, but always somehow come out of it all right. He had always believed that things would continue the way they were, that Qui-Gon and he would still be close friends for decades to come. Even after he became a knight, Qui-Gon would be there to offer his gentle advice when Obi-Wan needed it most and had no where else to turn. He would always be there to be Obi-Wan's mentor. He would always be his father.  
  
Father. The thought surprised Obi-Wan. He had never before used that word to describe Qui-Gon, but it rang so true that he could not deny it. Qui-Gon was the only family he had ever had, the single person in the galaxy who had ever really been closed to him and cared about him. And now this stranger, this twisted demonic thing that glared at him and paced around like nothing better than a sewer creature dared to take that away from him? Obi-Wan's shock quickly melted away as a new, more powerful emotion rose in him. He had felt the fringes of it before, but had never truly been engulfed by this feeling as he was now. It was a rage that pushed away the indescribable pain he was feeling and turned it outward. But it was more than just rage. The young man swallowed hard as he turned his burning eyes upon the Sith on the other side of the sizzling red wall. This feeling was focused. With the power of a beam of sunlight through a lens, this burning rage was focused on the single dark entity in front of him. It was more than rage that Obi-Wan felt; it was hate. He hated the Sith, and would not be satisfied until he had destroyed him.  
  
Obi-Wan ignited his lightsabre in anticipation of the shields opening. A split second later, they unleashed him like a pent up animal. The adrenaline pumping in his veins mixed with a strange new power that seemed greater than anything he had known before. There was a very bitter feeling to using this power, as though it were controlling him more than he was controlling it, but Obi-Wan embraced it anyway and used it to his advantage. When he struck out, his movements were quick and precise. The Sith moved even more agilely than before, but this time it was as if Obi- Wan were completely in tune with the movements. He moved to block every blow before it was thrown. He ducked every slice at his head and jumped a swipe at his legs, landing perfectly balanced and ready. Obi-Wan was no longer fighting on behalf of the Jedi; he was fighting for his own revenge. Furiously, he pushed the Sith's blade to the side, leaving the hilt exposed. In one clean cut, he sliced the blade in half and sent the Sith sprawling to the ground. But the dark warrior still held on to the functioning half of his blade, and he struck out at Obi-Wan, who leapt over his head in a twisting motion. The Sith scrambled away, just out of reach of Obi-Wan's blade, then spun and connected one foot with the young man's jaw.  
  
This time Obi-Wan kept his concentration, and instead of flying backwards across the floor, he managed to flip backwards and land on his feet. He would show this foul demon that he was not someone to be ignored or pushed to the side. He avoided a swipe of the Sith's blade as both twisted around each other. When the Sith struck, he blocked it and countered with a strike of his own. They exchanged a few more blows until finally Obi-Wan threw his weight into a powerful over handed strike. His lightsabre blade met with that of the Sith, and he pushed down with all his might, gritting his teeth in anger. They stayed locked that way for a few seconds, until suddenly the Sith pushed him back violently. One gloved hand went up and instantly Obi- Wan was pushed backwards by a dark wave of the Force. He tumbled, out of control, towards the edge of the precipice and went over. So blinded by his rage was he that he might have kept falling if a voice had not suddenly entered his mind.  
  
No Obi-Wan! Let go of your anger! Qui-Gon's voice seemed to slow down time. He remembered all the endless lectures he had been given and cast out with the living Force, just in time to sense a small knob on the side of the pit and grasp it with both hands. His feet thrashed about wildly as his arms were jolted with the sudden stop, and time once again sped up to normal. Obi-Wan could feel his heart beating at an irrationally high pace. As he took a few deep breaths he struggled to bring his body back to a normal functioning state. He was shocked at what had just happened, and could not explain it until he calmed himself. Then everything he had learned over his years of Jedi training came rushing back to him. Anger, hate, and aggression, he repeated Yoda's lesson to himself, are of the Dark Side. Obi- Wan looked up at the angry face towering over him and was filled with shame. He saw in the yellow eyes the same hatred which he had harboured himself. How could he have abandoned all he believed in so quickly?  
  
The Sith glared at him and tauntingly kicked his lightsabre into the pit. He watched as it disappeared into the abyss. Suddenly he felt hot sparks on his head and glanced up to see the dark lord scraping his lightsabre along the ledge. It was meant to rekindle his anger, but Obi-Wan had hardened himself against such feelings. Instead, he searched for his calm center and embraced the light side of the Force as it flowed around him. The Sith stopped the scraping to give him a curious look. Obi-Wan focused all his attention on Qui-Gon's extinguished sabre lying only a few feet away. He glanced back at his opponent, and the Sith gave him a distinct look of confusion. Obi-Wan turned his attention inward, grasping onto the Force as it moved through him. He took one last deep, calming breath, then let go of himself. The young man flew into the air, over the head of the Sith, and Qui-Gon's lightsabre flew into his hand. It had happened very quickly, but seemed to the Jedi like a slow, easy process. The Sith turned around to face his opponent once more, but it was too late. In one movement, Obi-Wan ignited the green sabre and made a smooth horizontal cut through the Sith's torso. The yellow eyes registered a mix of shock and pain, then the dark lord tumbled backward, the two halves of his body clattering down into the vast darkness.  
  
After a few seconds of mixed surprise and happiness, Obi-Wan remembered Qui- Gon, and all the pain and sorrow he had felt before the hate came rushing back. He turned off his master's lightsabre and rushed to his side. He knelt next to Qui-Gon and held his head in his arms. The Jedi Master gasped frantically before finally getting out the words, "It's too late."  
  
Obi-Wan reacted with immediate denial. "No," he insisted, refusing to accept it. Qui-Gon was strong, he had always been strong. This was going to be just another close call after all. Obi-Wan could save him, he knew he could. They could continue with things the way they were supposed to be.  
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said hoarsely. "Promise," he began. Obi-Wan hung on his every word. Whatever it was, he would do it without question. "Promise me you will train the boy."  
  
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied immediately, though it surprised him somewhat. He had completely forgotten about Anakin in the heat of the fight and everything that had happened. After all, what place did Anakin have here at this final moment, in the last words he would ever exchange with his Master? But Obi-Wan did not question. He simply agreed.  
  
Qui-Gon almost smiled at the reply as he gently reached up to touch Obi- Wan's face. The action sent a new wave of grief through the young man as he realised it was the last time Qui-Gon would be there to offer a comforting reassurance with a hand on his shoulder or a satisfied smile. "He is the Chosen One," Qui-Gon continued fervently. "He will bring balance." The conviction in Qui-Gon's words struck Obi-Wan deeply, and he wondered how he could have ever argued with him about the boy. He nodded his agreement. "Train him," Qui-Gon said in a whisper, and Obi-Wan nodded some more. Something in Qui-Gon's eyes gave him the feeling that there was more to say. There had to be more to say. So much had not been said, by either of them. Did Qui-Gon even know how much he had meant to Obi-Wan? Did he know how much his faith in him meant? The two locked eyes, and Obi-Wan had an overwhelming urge to tell him everything he had ever wanted to, but could find no words. Then it happened. He could feel it through the Force more than he could feel it in the body he cradled in his arms. At that moment, Obi-Wan's father died in his arms. Where their bond had been, constant and comforting for 12 years, a cold, empty void was left. He had known pain before, had cried a few tears in his youth; but he had never imagined anything like this. For the first time in his life, Obi-Wan Kenobi wept.  
  
*****  
  
The red shields shut down as the guards made their way down the corridor to Obi-Wan. If only it had been that easy, he thought regretfully. Or perhaps it wasn't that hard. I could have run faster if I'd shut my sabre off. I could have still been with them if my concentration hadn't waved. I could have- Obi-Wan quickly stopped that line of thinking. It was the will of the Force that things had happened this way; it had to be. Wasn't everything? It was a question he didn't want to have to deal with at the moment, and for once he was glad to see Panaka coming down the corridor towards him. Four other guards guiding a long floating cot silently went to where Qui- Gon was lying and put him on the flat board.  
  
Panaka glanced from the body to Obi-Wan. "He was a good man," he said softly.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded slightly, but said nothing. He couldn't begin to know what to say. So he simply followed the procession back through the hallway of deactivated shields and across a series of catwalks. It was only as he began to walk that he realized how exhausted he was, and began to notice a few dull aches, which he did his best to ignore. Had he had more energy left, he would have been able to use the Force to help. As it was, he felt completely exhausted in mind, body, and spirit. He simply followed behind the others silently, breathing deeply but softly.  
  
When they reached the hangar, the Queen and what remained of her party were waiting for them. Without her ceremonial white makeup, the agony on her face was apparent. She looked down at Qui-Gon's body, which was floating between the solemn guards, then back up. It took Obi-Wan a second to realize she was looking at him. He stepped forward, past Panaka, and stood before the Queen. He had only spoken to her once and was not at all used to addressing people, so he settled for a silent bow.  
  
"I believe it is I who am indebted to you, Jedi Kenobi," she said softly.  
  
Obi-Wan was not sure what to say. He was only a Padawan, used to deferring to his Master. He had been a bit bolder in speaking as of late, but that was when Qui-Gon was there to back him up. In truth, he was surprised the Queen even knew his name. He was in no place to disagree with her, but felt undeserving of praise. He had simply been doing his duty.  
  
He did not have time to reply, however, as just then the starfighters began roaring into the hangar. One by one, the pilots exited their crafts, greeting one another with hugs and happy cheers. They all flocked over to one starship, slapping its pilot on the back and ruffling his sandy hair before he could even climb down from the ladder. The pilots lifted the boy on their shoulders, and Anakin joined in their cheers, pumping his fists in the air and enjoying the moment of glory. When he caught site of Obi-Wan, his eyes immediately began searching for the young man's master.  
  
Anakin's eyes settled on the still form resting on the palette between the palace guards, and the smile on his face faded into a blank, shocked stare. "Qui-Gon?" The name was choked out in a soft sob. The pilots holding the boy on their shoulders quieted as they saw where he was looking. "Qui-Gon!" he shouted in horror, jumping down and running over to the body. Obi-Wan stepped aside as the boy rushed past him. He watched as Anakin rushed to Qui-Gon's side. With tears streaming down his face, the boy buried his face in the Jedi Master's shoulder and sobbed audibly.  
  
Everyone was standing around awkwardly, obviously not wanting to stare and upset the boy further. The pilots and most of the Queen's party exited the hangar quietly. Obi-Wan shifted his weight, wondering if he should do something. Suddenly, he remembered his promise to Qui-Gon that he would train Anakin, and felt he should help in some way, but didn't quite know how. He began to move towards the boy to lay a supportive hand on his shoulder, just to offer some kind of consolation, but to his surprise the Queen quickly knelt next to Anakin before Obi-Wan had a chance to do anything.  
  
"I'm so sorry Anakin," she said in a tone that was not only informal, but was quite caring as well. The boy immediately turned towards her and threw his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. Obi-Wan was surprised once again to see the depth of understanding and friendship that had developed between the two. It seemed a little odd, but at the moment he was very glad the Queen was doing something to alleviate the boy's pain. He wasn't sure what he himself could have done to help, but he was almost certain it wouldn't have been as effective. Anakin was already calming down and drying his tears, though still clutching to Amidala. She quietly signalled for her guards to take Qui-Gon's body away.  
  
Obi-Wan cautiously approached Anakin and the Queen, who stood up as he did. "Your highness," he said politely. "I don't mean to neglect my duty to you, but I must contact the Jedi Council immediately. I should inform them of Qui-Gon's death," he found himself almost unable to say the words, and had to work to keep from breaking down once again. What kind of an impression would that make on Anakin? Jedi do not cry. How am I supposed to teach him if I can't lead by example? That was not to mention the fact that it would simply be embarrassing. Amidala was more than a decade his junior, and yet she had faced an attack on her entire planet without losing her composure. Obi-Wan clamped his jaw tightly and tried to clear his mind.  
  
"Of course, Master Kenobi," she replied. Obi-Wan noted but ignored the misnomer. He supposed he would have to get used to being called Master if he was to take Anakin as his Padawan. The idea seemed very odd to him, that he could go from a Padawan to a Master in charge of his own Padawan in such a short time; it had happened in an instant, really. But he shouldn't jump to conclusions. No one could take a Padawan without the Council's approval, and he wasn't even a knight yet anyway. Those were only a few of the things he had to speak with the Council about.  
  
"Thank you your highness," he glanced down at Anakin, and hesitantly asked, "I hope it wouldn't be too much trouble for Anakin to stay with you until I return?"  
  
"It would be no trouble at all," Amidala replied, sharing a small smile with the boy.  
  
"Then I shall find you after I've completed the call. Thank you," Obi-Wan gave a small bow. The Queen turned to lead her remaining party away, taking Anakin's hand in her own.  
  
Obi-Wan watched them leave. His eyes settled on the boy, and he let out a silent sigh of anxiety. Qui-Gon had been right- Anakin had unmatched Force potential. After his success in the battle today, Obi-Wan could hardly deny it. Now he had only to convince the Council of it. He knew they did not overturn decisions lightly. It would be extremely hard to convince them to allow Anakin to be trained, especially by someone as inexperienced as himself. He rubbed his forehead as he turned to head to a quiet place where he could send his message to the Council uninterrupted. Then he noticed the two brown cloaks lying on the floor of the hangar. They had been discarded by he and Qui-Gon only an hour ago when they had prepared to fight the Sith. Yet for all of his preparation and attempts at tapping into the living Force, Obi-Wan had failed. He put his own cloak on quietly, then carefully picked up Qui-Gon's and draped it over his arm. Though it was empty, it seemed strangely heavy. Obi-Wan fingered the tattered edges morosely. Then, clenching the fabric determinedly, he went to contact the Jedi Council.  
  
*****  
  
Obi-Wan was almost relieved to find that the Council was busy when he contacted them. He wasn't sure he was ready to give a full report of the mission yet. It was all too fresh in his mind for him to reflect on it clearly. Besides, he was not sure yet how he was going to try to convince the Council to let him train Anakin; he had to know if they would make him a Knight first. No, he was not at all prepared to answer all the questions he knew were inevitable. He barely knew what to say in the message he was instructed to leave. Speaking with the Council was yet another thing he had never really done on account of only being a Padawan.  
  
"This is Obi-Wan Kenobi reporting from Naboo," he began, immediately realising it was a stupid thing to say- they knew who he was and where he was. He shook it off and continued, "The Trade Federation blockade of the planet has been ended. Queen Amidala is in control once again. As the Council had predicted, the Queen's return drew out her attacker. Master Jinn and I encountered him at the Palace." He paused a moment, drawing a deep breath. "Ultimately I was able to defeat the attacker, but not before Master Jinn was fatally wounded. He died this afternoon." The last sentence came out as almost a whisper. "I would like to speak with the Council as soon as possible about the mission, as well as other complications stemming from it." He was fairly certain they could guess which complications had arisen. "Thank you, and may the Force be with you."  
  
He ended the message with the push of a button on the communications module. It was only after doing so that he realised he was still holding Qui-Gon's robe. The Council would surely notice it in the message. A quick glance down at his belt reminded him that he had clipped Qui-Gon's lightsabre to it. What would he do with these items now? They had been Qui- Gon's only real possessions, the only solid reminder of him save for his file in the Jedi Archives. As he exited the small communications booth, Obi- Wan took the lightsabre in his hand and examined it. This weapon represented the very life of a Jedi, so it seemed odd that Qui-Gon's would be in such pristine condition when he was gone. Furthermore, Obi-Wan's own lightsabre had been lost. He felt a pang upon realising this: it had been the first and only lightsabre he had ever constructed. Now it, like his Master, was gone. What had so recently been his normal life seemed to have been washed away in favour of a new one. He wondered if he would have to construct a new lightsabre. Perhaps the Council would let him keep Qui- Gon's. No, it would be too sentimental.  
  
Having wandered down the nearly empty palace hallway without even realising it, Obi-Wan was surprised to suddenly hear someone calling to him. "Jedi Kenobi!" Panaka hailed him from a side hallway. Obi-Wan quickly snapped the lightsabre back onto his belt and tried not to grip the robe too tightly as he turned to face the guard. Nevertheless, Panaka noticed the garment in his hands and gave him a questioning look.  
  
"Qui-Gon's robe," Obi-Wan replied. "It was left in the hangar."  
  
"Oh. I could find a place to put that."  
  
"No, that won't be necessary, thank you."  
  
"Well it might be for a while anyway." Panaka went on to clarify, "The Chancellor is arriving and the Queen is going to turn over Gunray to the Republic. She'd like you and the boy to come out with her."  
  
"Of course," he replied without hesitation. Panaka stopped a passing servant and instructed her to see that Qui-Gon's cloak made its way to the Queen's secure quarters. Then Panaka started leading Obi-Wan another hallway towards an exit. The few people left in the palace seemed to be rushing to prepare for the Chancellor's unexpected arrival. The news had somewhat surprised Obi-Wan. Palpatine must have anticipated the Queen's victory and been on his way to Naboo even while the battle was still raging. It seemed like an extremely optimistic move, but then again it was the Chancellor's home planet; he was probably deeply concerned with what was going on there.  
  
After wandering through several large, high-ceilinged hallways, the two men found the Queen- along with her handmaidens, several officials, and Anakin- waiting by an exit. The Queen was once again in full regal makeup, and though Anakin stood next to her, he seemed considerably less casual. Obi- Wan also noted that the boy's eyes showed no signs he had been crying recently. By these clues, Obi-Wan had guessed it was the Queen's reassurances and presence that had consoled the boy so effectively. It was such an odd pairing of friends. At times like this, with Amidala in full regalia, one would never guess that she and the dusty little boy even knew each other. While it was puzzling to a degree, Obi-Wan thought he understood the duplicity of it. Different situations called for different degrees of decorum, as he knew well. The Queen might be able to pass for a reasonably normal teenager in her handmaiden guise, but now she had the perfect air of a monarch.  
  
Whatever the Queen's attire and regardless of the humanity she had shown earlier in consoling Anakin, she was still the Queen. Obi-Wan bowed courteously to her and waited to be spoken to.  
  
"I assume Captain Panaka has already told you of the Chancellor's arrival?" she asked in her dull, low tone.  
  
"Yes your majesty," Obi-Wan replied simply, standing with his hands behind his back. He thought he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Anakin mimicking the stance. "I'm sorry for having delayed the party."  
  
"It's quite alright, Master Kenobi. The Chancellor is just arriving now." She looked to Panaka, who led the way outside into the palace square.  
  
Obi-Wan was surprised to see a sizable number of Naboo guards lining the street. They had arranged themselves quickly for having so recently been in battle. The Queen quietly led her group towards a small group of guards surrounding the Trade Federation Viceroy and his assistant. As they approached, Anakin fell in step alongside Obi-Wan. The young man realised he had still hardly spoken to the boy, yet Anakin seemed to take his place beside the Jedi naturally. Obi-Wan still wasn't sure how Anakin would take to the idea of being trained by him, but it was evident that the boy at least felt some level of comfort with him.  
  
As the Chancellor's rusty coloured ship landed at the other end of the street, the Queen stopped her party before the captive Nemodians. "Now Viceroy," she said, staring up at him sternly, "you're going to have to go back to the Senate and explain all this."  
  
Panaka stepped forward. "I think you can kiss your Trade Franchise goodbye," he commented glibly as he passed, leading the prisoners to the awaiting ship . Obi-Wan followed towards the lowered gangway, with Anakin in tow. A group of Senate guards in deep indigo uniforms descended, followed by Chancellor Palpatine, who headed towards the Jedi first.  
  
Obi-Wan bowed deeply, and Anakin copied the move. "We are indebted to you for your bravery Obi-Wan Kenobi," Palpatine said in a tone that was perhaps a little more curt and cadenced than he had expected to hear. The Jedi did a quick study of the man's appearance, and found his meek smile to be forced. The thought crept into his mind that perhaps the Chancellor's motives for arriving on Naboo so promptly were more strategic than sentimental. Then again, he was a politician, used to making speeches rather than sincere conversation. In any case, Obi-Wan had not done what Palpatine considered to be acts of bravery for the sake of accolades. He was simply doing his duty.  
  
"And you, young Skywalker," the Chancellor said, a smile brightening his face and tone. Obi-Wan looked down to Anakin, who looked surprised at being addressed. "We will watch your career with great interest," Palpatine said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder as he passed. Obi-Wan's eyes flicked back up to the Chancellor, studying him curiously.  
  
His line of thought was interrupted, however, when he saw the members of the Jedi Council. He was surprised to see them there and wondered why they had come. They could not have known of Qui-Gon's death before departing, but he saw now in their eyes a subtle compassion that told him that his message had been transmitted to them. So why had they come in the first place, then? It was not unheard of, however also not common for the Council to visit a planet in the wake of a crisis, and Naboo was not too far from Coruscant. With the event being tied to the election of the new Chancellor, it also made it a high profile event. However, it was the glance that Mace Windu cast down at Anakin that tipped Obi-Wan off to another possible motive. The Council must have heard of his involvement in the space battle. They were probably both intrigued and upset. Obi-Wan put a protective hand on the boy's shoulder as he turned to follow the Chancellor back to where the Queen was standing.  
  
"Congratulations on your election, Chancellor," Amidala said, a rare smile breaking through her stoic white visage.  
  
"Your boldness has saved our people, your majesty. It is you who should be congratulated," Palpatine replied in a polished manner that, to Obi-Wan at least, seemed rehearsed. "Together, we shall bring peace and prosperity to the Republic."  
  
"I'm afraid it takes more than the work of two people to bring about such a drastic change in such a society," Amidala replied. "But I am glad to have your support in doing what we can to improve it."  
  
The Chancellor's speech had felt like little more than frivolous words, and Obi-Wan was happy to see the Queen take it in with a grain of salt. Surprisingly, Palpatine seemed unfazed. "Well we shall see what two people can do nonetheless," he said with a smile. Turning towards Obi-Wan and Anakin, he said, "We would be honoured if you would join us for a banquet a little later this afternoon."  
  
The boy looked up at Obi-Wan questioningly. "Thank you for the offer. I'm not sure if I will be able to make it. I have some matters to discuss with the Council," the young man replied.  
  
Palpatine took in the gathered group of Jedi, then replied shortly, "Ah, yes."  
  
"Sabé," the Queen addressed the nearby handmaiden. "Show the Jedi to the west conference room." The young woman nodded and began silently leading the group away. "The Banquet will be open should you wish to come by," Amidala said to Obi-Wan as the palace guards and officials began to disband, heading off in the opposite direction the Jedi had gone.  
  
As everyone else began to walk away, Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan apprehensively, obviously unsure of where to go. Obi-Wan didn't know if the Council would want to speak directly with Anakin again or not. More than likely, they would only want to hear his report as well as speak with him about Anakin without the boy present. But what could he say on Anakin's behalf? He suddenly realised he wasn't even certain what the boy wanted now. Kneeling down beside the boy, Obi-Wan looked him steadily in the eyes as he spoke.  
  
"I'm going to speak with the Council," he told the boy, who nodded. "You don't need to come with me, but it's important that I know what you feel." He paused before asking, "Do you still want to become a Jedi." Anakin nodded his head immediately and fervently. It was clear the boy still wanted it more than anything, but his eyes betrayed his anxiety over if it would actually happen. He had clearly earned Qui-Gon's good faith in the matter, but Obi-Wan had said nothing up until this point in favour of Anakin being trained. In fact, he had clearly expressed his opposition to it. Obi-Wan felt a twinge of guilt as he remembered how Anakin had overheard him on Coruscant stating adamantly that the boy should not be trained. He felt apprehension radiating from the boy now, and knew he must immediately do something to remedy the situation. Taking a deep breath, he slowly and clearly said, "You have more than proven yourself worthy of being trained, Anakin." The boy's demeanor immediately perked up. Obi-Wan went on. "I will do my best to convince the Council to train you. You have shown even more of your potential today."  
  
Anakin looked straight at Obi-Wan and smiled. "Thank you," he said sincerely.  
  
Obi-Wan smiled softly and paused a moment before continuing. The boy might be eager to become a Jedi even without Qui-Gon to teach him, but he had probably not yet considered who would be left to it. Gazing steadily and seriously at the boy, Obi-Wan struggled to pick the right words for what he had to say next. "If it's alright with you, I'm going to ask the Council for permission to train you." In the moment of silence that followed, Obi- Wan wondered for the first time whether or not Qui-Gon had considered when he made the request of Obi-Wan that Anakin might not want to be trained by him. Of course he didn't think of it, he was dying, Obi-Wan thought bitterly. But he himself had to wonder what the boy would think of being trained by an almost perfect stranger who had really shown nothing but resentment towards him. Now Obi-Wan was berating himself for having been so callous and jealous. Qui-Gon had been right about the boy all along; Obi- Wan had committed himself to believing that now. But would Anakin be able to trust him?  
  
"You would do that?" Anakin asked.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded solemnly. "If the Council will grant me permission," he added. It was still a major hurtle to cross and he was sure it wouldn't be easy to change their minds on the matter. The boy's face seemed to fall a little, so he quickly added, "I promise to try my best to convince them to."  
  
"But... they told Master Qui-Gon he couldn't train me," Anakin said hesitantly.  
  
"Nothing about the future is ever certain," Obi-Wan replied. Though he nodded, the boy still looked a little downcast. Of course, he did not understand the nature of the Force and how it shaped events. Obi-Wan felt he himself still didn't have a solid grasp on it, and it constantly frustrated him. "I promise to do my best to convince them," he said. "You don't need anymore to worry about, though. You should go on to the banquet."  
  
"Okay," Anakin said, somewhat reluctantly, but obviously trying not to sound too glum. "Thanks," he added as he headed off in the direction all the guards were heading. As Obi-Wan watched him go, he couldn't help but feeling he had somehow already failed the boy. His inability to offer Anakin the assurance of training frustrated him; but what was more, he was beginning to wonder if he'd be able to live up to his promise to Qui-Gon. The Council had been firm with their decision on Anakin before, and though it was true that they sometimes overturned their decisions, it was very unusual. He had promised Anakin he would do his best to convince them, but he had a feeling his best might not be enough.  
  
*****  
  
Obi-Wan stood before the door to the meeting room the Queen had designated for the Council to use. He had rarely been nervous when going before the Council, but now he noticed his heart rate had increased slightly. I haven't even made it in yet, he thought, breathing deeply to calm himself down. He could not let himself be afraid of what might happen once he was inside. The Council would immediately notice his fear and point it out to him. They always seemed to spot every weakness in a subject, and Obi-Wan knew he could not afford to highlight his own faults at this crucial moment. He had to be assertive no matter how nervous he was. This was a crucial moment in deciding not only his own future, but Anakin's as well. He straightened his stance and entered the room confidently but quietly.  
  
The Council members had established themselves in a circle around the outside walls, just as they were arranged on Coruscant. It was a configuration that not only implied unity but also served to remind the subject that everything was exposed to the Council members- they saw you from all angles, making it nearly impossible to hide anything. As Obi-Wan stood alone in the center of the circle, he felt all eyes on him. It was a new feeling to be the focus of the Council's attention, and the young man was determined to do his best to use the opportunity to prove himself.  
  
Obi-Wan locked eyes with Yoda, who was gazing at him serenely from his seated position a few feet away, and waited for the wisened old Master to speak. "Padawan Kenobi," he said in a gentle tone, "most saddened were we to hear of Master Qui-Gon's death." Unsure of how to reply to the statement, or even if he was supposed to, Obi-Wan nodded slightly. "A most unfortunate thing it is to lose such a Jedi," Yoda continued, adding with sympathy, "and such a friend."  
  
"Yes," Obi-Wan replied cautiously, fearing he would betray the grief he had felt earlier if he were to say too much. Though he knew it was useless to try to hide his feelings from the Council, he could not help but wanting to spare himself the embarrassment of appearing weak. He pushed the memory of Qui-Gon's death out of his mind and staunchly refused to let it creep back in. Several Council members exchanged glances, no doubt passing private thoughts to one another through the Force. Obi-Wan could not stand to let them communicate around him and make all the decisions without ever hearing what he had to say. Quickly, he added, "But I do not wish to dwell on Qui- Gon's death," all eyes turned back to him, and he hesitated before finishing, "but rather on what he wished for those who are still alive."  
  
"You refer to the boy," Master Windu stated plainly.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded and replied, "I refer to both Anakin's future and my own."  
  
"You wish to be made a knight," Ki-Adi Mundi stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"Master Qui-Gon believed I was ready," Obi-Wan replied cautiously.  
  
"And what do you believe?" Master Windu asked, staring at the young man.  
  
Obi-Wan was trying to think of a tactful way to answer without sounding too proud. He had been a padawan longer than nearly anyone he'd known, and yet Yoda had long since praised him for being wise beyond his years. But Obi- Wan knew he could never simply say that. He was trying to look for another way to put it when Yoda's gimmer stick suddenly struck the floor, emitting a loud banging sound that echoed off the stone walls and gave the young man a start. "A time for prudence this is not," the old Master reprimanded. "See your mind, we can. Of little importance are your words. Speak what it is you feel."  
  
Having failed miserably at giving the right answer thus far, Obi-Wan forgot his caution for once and blurted out, "I've felt ready for sometime, but I've been waiting for Master Qui-Gon's approval. I've been unsure, but now I feel there's little left for me to learn as an apprentice." Obi-Wan felt relieved at having gotten the words out, but once they were, he immediately began to worry that they had been too bold. He awaited a reprimand, but to his surprise, the reply he got was much different than he had expected.  
  
"Glad I am to hear your true feelings at last," Yoda said.  
  
"We weren't certain if you thought you were ready or were simply trying to avoid embarrassment," Master Windu said. "It was clear that Master Qui-Gon had not discussed the matter with you ahead of time."  
  
Obi-Wan clearly remembered the last Council meeting with Qui-Gon, when he had declared his intention to take Anakin as his Padawan. "It was a surprise, but I've come to understand Master Qui-Gon's motives," he replied, adding resolutely, "and to agree with him."  
  
Masters Windu and Yoda exchanged glances before Mace turned a serious expression on Obi-Wan. "If you refer to the boy being trained, the matter has already been decided."  
  
"If you'll pardon my frankness," Obi-Wan interjected, "I do not see how you can so easily ignore everything that has passed since our last meeting. I was set against the boy being trained myself, as I'm sure you all knew. But once I re-examined the situation, I realised I was being selfish. Anakin's potential is phenomenal. We would not have escaped so easily from Tatooine if not for him and the battle today might not have been won."  
  
"So quick to think of victory are you!" Yoda huffed. "See you not the grave danger in the reappearance of the Sith?"  
  
"I see it as all the more reason for Anakin to be trained. What will happen if he is not? He will still be as powerful as before, but that power may not be used for good." The Council members seemed surprised and stirred by the young man's boldness. Obi-Wan had always held strong convictions about many things, but generally kept his thoughts to himself or only confided them in Qui-Gon. As of late, however, he had been less and less able to hold his tongue and sit by without saying anything. The impassioned words spoken from someone who never spoke lightly of anything seemed to be affecting several Council members who stirred in their seats and glanced at one another.  
  
Master Yoda was one of the few who seemed unmoved. He stared evenly at Obi- Wan and asked calmly, "And who would train such a powerful pupil?"  
  
Obi-Wan locked his eyes stoically with the old Jedi Master. It was clear that Yoda had realised Obi-Wan would request to take Anakin as his Padawan and had asked the question to reveal the intent. The prospect of butting heads with the wisest and most respected of Jedi Master's made the young man falter. But then he remembered the promise Qui-Gon had asked of him, how he had given his dying breath to ensuring that Anakin would be trained. Obi-Wan set his jaw and replied, "I will train him."  
  
This made all the Council members stir in their seats as they exchanged looks and thoughts. "And how can you be sure you will even be made a knight," Master Mundi questioned.  
  
"I am willing to face whatever trial the Council deems I have not yet passed," Obi-Wan replied confidently.  
  
"I believe I am not mistaken in thinking that it was you who killed the Queen's attacker," Master Windu said. Obi-Wan replied with a nod, and the venerable master's expression seemed to register grave contemplation. After a moment, he asked, "Do you believe it was a Sith?"  
  
The question seemed to be out of place, but Obi-Wan did not have to think about his reply at all. "I am certain of it."  
  
"As you are of many things as of late, it seems," Yoda said in a chiding tone. "Why so certain of this are you?"  
  
As Obi-Wan's thoughts flashed back to the vicious fight he had engaged in with the dark warrior, the hard exterior he had put up slid away. The memory made him forget the staunch battle of wills he had been waging with the wisened Jedi Master. It was only after thinking over the fight in his head for a moment that he was able to reply. "It wasn't just his appearance, nor how he fought, nor his weapon... it was something different, something I could feel radiating from him. It was a pure hatred of everything good. His only purpose was to destroy and cause suffering."  
  
"And did he accomplish that?" Master Windu asked evenly.  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes shot up to the dark-skinned Jedi, then dropped back to the floor. His reply came slowly. "When he killed Qui-Gon, he made me hate him. And I used that hate against him."  
  
"Mmm, use the Dark Side you did," Yoda said.  
  
Obi-Wan felt all eyes intently gazing at him, and was too ashamed to say anything. What have I done? he thought. I betrayed everything I believe in. He was shocked at how quickly he had forgotten the powerful hatred he had felt during the fight. Had he subconsciously tried to hide it? The fact that he hadn't even though of it worried him immensely. He been so proud and confident that it had blinded him to how weak he really was. Why had he promised Qui-Gon that he would train Anakin? There was no question now that the Council would never allow it and that he was incapable of it. "Forgive me," he said softly, wishing to be anywhere else in the galaxy.  
  
There was a heavy silence. Obi-Wan remained staring at the floor, waiting to be asked to leave so they could make their decision. He was surprised to hear Yoda instead ask him a question. "How felt you with this power?"  
  
Obi-Wan looked up meekly, shaking his head. "When I realised what was happening, I felt terrible. I felt like a traitor."  
  
"Mmm," Yoda mused, eyeing Obi-Wan carefully and searching his mind through the Force. This time the young man did not fight the Jedi Master's power, no longer feeling he had the right to. "But relinquish this power freely did you," the old Master said. Obi-Wan looked up slightly, nodding. Yoda paused, rubbing his chin and closing his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them, he looked straight at the young man. "Better it may be to believe in what is right than to know how to achieve it."  
  
"I'm not sure I understand," Obi-Wan replied, utterly confused. Yoda had seemed to be half talking to Obi-Wan and half to himself, yet either way it didn't really make any sense.  
  
"Mmm, clouded the future is," Master Yoda said gravely. "Dark times I sense. Need those who are able to resist will we, not only in body, but in mind. Always mindful of this future should you be." The old Jedi's wrinkled face looked extremely saddened and worried.  
  
Obi-Wan did not know what to say. He didn't even know what to think anymore. Was Yoda suggesting he had some important role to play in the future, or was he simply making a broad statement? Did this have to do with his proposal to train Anakin? He thought back to what Qui-Gon had said about the prophecy, and felt trepidation. What if the prophecy was true? He was wary of such things, but there was always a chance that Anakin actually was destined to bring balance to the Force. The Council undoubtedly realised Obi-Wan's suggestion was preposterous. He stood in humbled stillness, waiting for someone to say something.  
  
Master Windu carefully broke the tense silence. "Leave us to discuss these matters. We will call you back in later to hear the decision. May the Force be with you."  
  
"May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan replied, bowing graciously even as he turned for the exit. As soon as the door closed behind him, he leaned into the wall and let out a deep, ragged sigh.  
  
*****  
  
Obi-Wan wandered down the hallway aimlessly. He realised he hadn't the slightest idea where the dinner was being held, but he figured he'd come across it sooner or later. Besides, he needed the extra time to decide how he was going to tell Anakin about what had happened with the Council. He desperately hoped what he hadn't gotten the boys hopes up too much. Already, he'd had to suffer through being rejected by the Council once. How could Obi-Wan break the bleak news to him again? His thoughts were cut off by the sound of voices coming from a large, well-lit room at the end of the hall. It was obviously the room where the dinner was being held. He hesitated, unsure of what he was going to say to Anakin. But it wouldn't be fair to wait any longer; the Council could call him back at any moment. If he could do nothing else for the boy, in the very least he owed him an honest assessment of the situation.  
  
As he quietly entered the room, Obi-Wan searched around for Anakin. There were a dozen tables scattered about with groups of pilots, gungans, and guards chattering away happily as they ate, rejoicing over the recent victory.  
  
"Obi-Wan!" a voice called from across the room. Anakin waved to the Jedi enthusiastically. He was seated with the Queen and Chancellor, both of whom smiled cordially at Obi-Wan.  
  
He was unable to force himself to smile back. The atmosphere was so jovial, and Obi-Wan sincerely regretted having to disrupt it with his sullen presence. As he slowly made his way to the table, he tried to remind himself to remain positive around the others. There was no use in spoiling anyone else's good mood.  
  
"I saved you a seat," the boy said, indicating the empty chair next to him.  
  
Obi-Wan really wanted to speak with Anakin immediately and privately, but the boy looked so eager for him to join the table that he couldn't tell him no. He hesitantly took the seat next to Anakin.  
  
"We're glad you could join us," the Queen said in a tone that was regal but somewhat relaxed. Still, Obi-Wan got the impression that his presence meant very little to her. He nodded politely anyway, but said nothing. "Would you care for something to eat?"  
  
"No thank you, I'm not very hungry."  
  
"I find that hard to imagine, after the day you've had," the Chancellor said. "Young Anakin was just telling us what an impressive swordsman you are."  
  
"I told him about how you fought those droids on our way into the palace," Anakin said with a beaming smile. "That was so cool!"  
  
Obi-Wan cringed inwardly. He had hoped the table would resume whatever conversation they had been having, but unfortunately they seemed intent on talking with him. It seemed he would have to say something. "Well I learned from the best," he replied.  
  
The Queen nodded solemnly. "I saw Master Jinn fighting with my attacker on Tatooine. They were both very skilled. I was quite impressed." She spoke tentatively, treading carefully away from the subject of Qui-Gon's death.  
  
"And I'm sure Master Kenobi must have been very skilled to have defeated such an opponent," Palpatine said with a smile that seemed a little forced. He glanced at Obi-Wan appraisingly for a moment. The young man stared back, trying to evaluate what the Chancellor was thinking, but not wanting to be too intrusive. All Obi-Wan got was an unintelligible mix of emotions, and before he could think about it anymore, Palpatine broke in with, "Anakin tells us you are going to train him. It seems there could be no better mentor."  
  
Surprised and a mortified at the sudden mention of it, Obi-Wan desperately searched for a tactful way to break the news. He glanced down at Anakin apologetically, garnering a confused look from the boy. He looked away as he said, "I'm not entirely certain that's going to happen."  
  
Though he wasn't looking at the boy, Obi-Wan could feel Anakin's sudden disappointment and worry. Even if he hadn't felt it, it was blatant in the distressed tone of his voice. "What do you mean?" the boy asked. Obi-Wan turned and forced himself to look down at Anakin. He saw a look of distress fall over the boy's bright face. "Did the Council say you couldn't?"  
  
Obi-Wan could hardly stand the look in Anakin's eyes. They were so full of the disappointment he knew he would feel from the boy. It was the same disappointment he felt at himself, and was sure Qui-Gon would feel if he were there. As much as he hated it, Obi-Wan was powerless to change the circumstances. If he could do anything more to convince the Council, he would have. He knew he'd put forth his best arguments, but it didn't help to console his feeling of failure, which he saw reflected in the boy's downcast look. "They haven't decided yet," Obi-Wan replied. "But they don't seem to think it would be a good idea."  
  
"They still think I'm too old," Anakin stated, looking down, dejected.  
  
"You've proved your abilities," he said, trying to sound encouraging. "Perhaps if I were able to find someone else willing to train you, someone more qualified and capable," he trailed off. Clearly nothing he could say now could lift the boy's spirits. Anakin had gotten his hopes up twice now only to have them dashed. "I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said helplessly, turning his face down to the empty plate in front of him.  
  
An uncomfortable silence followed, and Obi-Wan wished he had some food on his plate to at least push around instead of just sitting there awkwardly. After a few moments, the Queen spoke gently. "I'm sure everything will turn out for the best," she said. Though Obi-Wan was sure her steadfast optimism was only a natural part of her character, he couldn't help but feeling the words were only spoken to alleviate the pain her friend Anakin must be going through. It only made Obi-Wan feel worse- he knew Anakin would never be happy unless he could become a Jedi.  
  
"I'm terribly sorry," Palpatine said. "It seems a pity that such a perfect match of Master and Apprentice could be passed up." Obi-Wan looked up at the Chancellor curiously. Why would he say something like that? He hardly knew either of them. The clear attempt at being politic failed to assuage Obi-Wan's feelings, but he forced a tight smile anyway. "If there's anything I can do to help, I will gladly do it," Palpatine continued. "I will even speak with the Council if you wish."  
  
Obi-Wan was mildly offended at the suggestion. Palpatine might have been the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, but this in no way qualified him to give suggestions to the Order. It seemed very presumptuous of him to even assume he knew what was best. Not wanting to be rude, Obi-Wan simply replied, "I doubt there's much of anything to be done now."  
  
"Well, as her majesty has said, I'm sure everything will turn out for the best," Palpatine said, taking a bite of his food but all the while keeping his eyes casually fixed on Obi-Wan. The young man said nothing. "If you're really not going to eat anything," the Chancellor continued, "at least have something to drink. Naboo has some of the finest wines in this part of the galaxy."  
  
It hardly seemed like a time to be indulging himself, but Obi-Wan had to admit he really could use a good drink. After a moment's hesitation, he rambled off a complex order to the table's attendant. Palpatine raised an eyebrow. "I had no idea the Jedi were such connoisseurs of spirits," he said with a chuckle. "How interesting," he said as he sipped his own drink.  
  
"Not many are," Obi-Wan replied, adding, "but I don't think the Order is always as dour as some might make it out to be." He did not mention that, though he had been allowed to drink from the legal age by Qui-Gon, many Jedi still frowned on it. He refused to be embarrassed this time and was starting to resent the belittling tone Palpatine was taking towards the Jedi.  
  
Just then, the commlink on Obi-Wan's belt went off. He glanced down at it and as he did, met Anakin's gaze. "That's the Council. I have to go," he said as he stood up. The boy's eyes followed him. "There's still a chance they will allow me to train you," he said, but he sounded doubtful even to himself. "I'm sorry," he stuttered again as he turned around to leave.  
  
"Your drink, Master Jedi," the table attendant said, offering him a glass of light red liquid. He hesitated momentarily before swallowing the whole thing and quickly exiting the room without a word or backward glance.  
  
*****  
  
Obi-Wan made his way briskly down the hallway, not wanting to seem rushed but also not wanting to make the Council wait on him too long. He was a little turned around but soon found the main hallway he was fairly certain led to the Council's temporary chamber. Perhaps he should slow down a bit; after all, he wasn't especially excited to hear the Council's ruling. But there was no delaying the inevitable, was there?  
  
As he strode towards the room, he replayed the previous meeting in his mind. Several Council members had actually seemed to have been seriously contemplating making him a knight. While the prospect made Obi-Wan happy, it was not necessarily all that surprising. He had been awaiting the decision for a while, and was glad they were finally acknowledging his abilities; he had, after all, killed a Sith. Then again, the manner in which it had occurred was not exactly something to be proud of. His own abilities had come to light, but the effort had been noticeably tainted by the Dark Side. But what had Yoda meant about knowing what was right but not knowing how to achieve it? Obi-Wan wasn't sure he ever really understood anything the old Jedi said. Consequently, he had no idea what Yoda would say to the other Council members behind closed doors. Fortunately, he was fairly certain Master Windu would recommend he be knighted, if for no reason other than that it would be too troublesome and pointless to find him a new Master for such a short period of time.  
  
But Anakin was a different matter. There was no doubt that Obi-Wan would not be allowed to train him. He could hardly believe he'd proposed it in the first place. He had to have known it was ridiculous to think they would elevate him from a Padawan to a Master. Besides, what made him think that they would let him train Anakin when they wouldn't even allow Qui-Gon to? Qui-Gon had already trained several Padawans, and despite his roguish tendencies, was highly respected for his skills as a Jedi. Perhaps Obi-Wan would someday reach that level, but he certainly wasn't at it now. Admittedly, he was ahead of most Jedi his age, even some who had already been knighted, but he was constantly being reminded how much he had to learn.  
  
His biggest mistake had probably been mentioning it to Anakin at all. The memory of the boy's disappointment was all too fresh in Obi-Wan's mind. What was worse, he knew he would still have to endure telling Anakin that he would have to go back to Tatooine. Obi-Wan could not fathom what it would be like to live out ones life in such an arid, bleak place, but he knew Anakin would be devastated to have to return there. The only decent thing would be for Obi-Wan to take Anakin back to his mother and personally apologize. But who was he kidding? What could he possibly say that would make up for it? He would have to confess to his own inability to follow in Qui-Gon's wake. But that wouldn't be the worst of it. The worst of it was knowing that he had failed the last promise he had ever made to Qui-Gon.  
  
Obi-Wan paused for a moment and tried to calm his racing mind. He was standing at an intersection of two hallways, unsure of which one led to his destination. He tried to remember the way he'd come, but to no avail. Silently, he cursed himself for letting so many little things get to him today. There were more important things to be concerned with than his own confusion, but, as always, he seemed unable to focus. Wouldn't Qui-Gon be proud, he thought sardonically. Here he's entrusted Anakin's future to me and I can't even remember how to get to the Council room. The young man drew a deep breath and looked around for a place to sit down. He lowered himself onto a stone bench and leaned back against the cool stone wall, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. It wasn't like him to get so worked up over things. At least, he prided himself on rarely letting it show. If things continued like this, he would soon have broken down in front of nearly everyone he knew, and lost whatever modicum of respect he once had.  
  
It had been hard, of course, being a Jedi all his life, but he had almost always felt he had at least been able to live up to expectations. But now he was uncertain. The bar seemed to have been set impossibly high. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan lamented silently, why would you ask this of me? He sent the question out into the void, but of course there was no response. The only thing he had to go on were his own assumptions. He had assumed Qui-Gon believed he was ready for the challenge, but now he wasn't sure. Maybe he had only asked him because there was no one else to ask. It made sense, much more sense than believing Qui-Gon actually thought he would be ready to train Anakin. Clearly Qui-Gon had always wanted to see Obi-Wan do well, and he'd said he admired the young man's wisdom. Obi-Wan hated to admit it, but there was nothing radically special about him as a Jedi.  
  
His pride had blinded him to the reality of things- Qui-Gon believed Anakin was the Chosen One, and wanted to ensure that he was trained no matter what. It was unfortunate that circumstances had not turned out better, but there was nothing Obi-Wan could do to hide from the truth. The Council had not denied that Anakin might be the Chosen One, and yet they staunchly refused to allow him to be trained by anyone. Obi-Wan certainly understood their reasoning; he was inclined to agree with them. But Qui-Gon's faith in the boy was undeniable. Obi-Wan had a hard time admitting it, but often when Qui-Gon had defied the Council, he ended up being right. So what reason did Obi-Wan have to believe this time would be any different?  
  
Because this time Qui-Gon's not here to defy them himself, he thought drearily. Which meant it was up to Obi-Wan to decide what to do. There was no doubt in his mind that he firmly believed in the Jedi, in the Code, and in the wisdom of the Council. Was it possible that, even with all their foresight and knowledge, they could be wrong? Qui-Gon had often given him good reason to believe so, though Obi-Wan had always adhered to Council's rulings instead. His reasoning had been that if the Council was right 99% of the time, the best bet was always to go with them. Of course, Qui-Gon had never had a problem taking his chances. His padawan, however, was not quite as daring.  
  
Obi-Wan let out a deep sigh and scratched the back of his neck. He couldn't sit here all day thinking about it. He realised, much to his chagrin, that he had already wasted a sizeable amount of time sitting on the bench. Standing, he surveyed the two hallways once again. They looked very similar, but he had a feeling for some reason that the one to his left was the one he had come from, so he headed in that direction. He soon saw the door he was looking for at the other end of the hallway. What would he tell the Council? They had made their decision and would no longer be in the mood to listen to arguments on the subject. The answer was clear, but it was one Obi-Wan dreaded confronting: he would have to tell them flat out that he was training Anakin no matter what. He could almost imagine the amused grin this would provoke from Qui-Gon. But this was no joking matter. While Qui-Gon had defied the Council before, he had never gone this far. Were a Jedi to take on an apprentice without the Council's approval, especially in a case where the Council had specifically denied the training, he would be subject to expulsion from the order.  
  
Obi-Wan's mouth was becoming very dry as he approached the door. The entire Jedi Council would be on the other side waiting for him, and he was going to have to stand up to them, possibly the wisest beings in the galaxy, and tell them they were wrong. The inevitable harangue that would follow would undoubtedly be unlike any reprimand he had ever received, of that he was certain. But this was not about him, and he realised now it had never been. Qui-Gon had meant no disrespect to him in wanting to take Anakin as his padawan, just as his request of Obi-Wan had meant nothing about the young man's abilities. This was about Anakin and his future. Whatever role Obi- Wan had to play in it, there was no more room to be selfish. Even if it required him enduring heated diatribes, or punishment. Even if it meant expulsion. None of this changed the fact that he had made a promise to Qui- Gon. He couldn't live with himself if he simply gave up. It wouldn't be fair to Qui-Gon, and it certainly wouldn't be fair to Anakin. Obi-Wan was the only one left to fight for him.  
  
The young man arrived at the door to the Council chambers. He remembered all the times Qui-Gon had gone to see the Council with much the same demeanour, and how he had always begged him to rethink his decision. But once Qui-Gon had decided something, he did not change his mind. The answer was always the same- "I will do as I must." Well, Obi-Wan knew what it was he must do. He knew he could be just as stubborn as Qui-Gon, even if he sometimes knew better when not to be. This was not one of those times. Gritting his teeth and setting his jaw, Obi-Wan opened the door and entered, prepared to face fate.  
  
As soon as he had, he faltered. The members of the Jedi Council who had been seated around the wall were gone. Had he entered the wrong room? He would feel quite stupid if he had. As he studied his surroundings, however, he was almost certain it was the same room. It was possible there were rooms that looked similar to this one, but Obi-Wan could tell by the direction the windows faced that this was the right room. It did feel a bit different, though. In the light of the setting sun, the room took on a warm mauve tone which accented the designs on the marble floor. The resulting feeling was one of calm and quiet beauty. He had hardly taken the time to appreciate the room's design before, being more worried about the serious gazes that had pierced him from all sides. Now he was pleasantly surprised to find that the empty serenity of the room had a calming effect on his nerves. But where had the Council gone? Had he really taken so long to get here that they had left? Wouldn't they have called him again if they were becoming impatient?  
  
From the shadows off to his right, Obi-Wan suddenly heard a noise. It was a slow patter of bare feet and the clicking of wood on rock. The sound was unmistakeable. Master Yoda hobbled slowly towards the center of the room where Obi-Wan stood. The young man had not even sensed his presence. The Jedi Master must have been shielding himself. Obi-Wan politely dropped to a knee so as to be able to address Yoda without towering over him. The wisened old master eyed the padawan thoughtfully, but said nothing. Obi-Wan remained quiet. He knew better than to speak first. It would be too brash. Of course, the inevitable words to come would destroy all sense of decorum. "Master Yoda," he began hesitantly, "where are the other Council Members?"  
  
Thankfully, the Jedi Master did not seem offended by the young man's speaking out of turn. Instead he gave Obi-Wan a serious and somewhat melancholy look and replied, "Arranging Qui-Gon's funeral they are."  
  
The words hit Obi-Wan a little harder than he would have liked. He hadn't even thought about the funeral, but of course it made sense that it would be held here on Naboo, since the entire Council was already present. "Oh," he replied quietly, trying not to sound too shaken, "of course." His mixed emotions prevented him from saying anything more. Perhaps that was for the better.  
  
"Nonetheless," Yoda said, "a decision we have reached." Obi-Wan's muscles tensed involuntarily. Master Yoda paused and paced a few steps. He was always forcing the lesson of patience on his fellow Jedi. It was a lesson Obi-Wan knew he needed to remember, but preferred not to have to be taught over and over again. It was infuriating, but of course Yoda knew that. It was why he did it. Obi-Wan staunchly forced himself to remain calm and wait for the Jedi Master to continue. Yoda eyed him carefully, then took a few more steps, speaking as he did. "Confer on you the level of Jedi Knight the Council does."  
  
Despite all the circumstances surrounding the announcement, Obi-Wan could not a small smile from spreading across his face. It was what he had expected to hear, but it still lifted his spirit immensely to finally hear those words. This was what he had been working towards his entire life, and actually achieving it felt surreal. He could not help but allow himself a moment of selfish joy and pride.  
  
The fleeting happiness was sobered instantly. "But agree with your taking this boy as your padawan learner, I do not," the Jedi Master said sharply, emphasizing his point with the pounding of his gimmer stick on the floor.  
  
There it was, just as Obi-Wan had expected. The Council would never change their mind on the matter. He struggled to keep himself composed. "Qui-Gon believed in him," he argued earnestly. He knew that, despite their differences, Master Yoda had always held Qui-Gon in high regard. It was a futile argument, but Obi-Wan felt he had to plead his case in any way possible.  
  
Yoda sighed in exasperation and stopped pacing for a moment. "The Chosen One the boy may be," he said solemnly, "nevertheless, grave danger I fear in his training."  
  
It was clear by the Jedi Master's tone that he considered this a very serious matter. Obi-Wan had not come to his decision lightly either. It was useless to resist his only choice. Qui-Gon's last words rang clearly in his head and weighed heavily on his shoulders. "Master Yoda, I gave Qui-Gon my word." His voice wavered slightly as he spoke, unable to entirely block out his emotions. "I will train Anakin," he insisted stubbornly, eliciting a heavy sigh from Yoda as he began to pace again. Obi-Wan drew a deep breath. He was about to step over a line he knew he could not return from. It took all of his will to speak his next words. "Without the approval of the Council if I must," he said, eyeing Yoda unyieldingly. The Jedi Master tensed visibly, and Obi-Wan nervously awaited the reply, readying himself for an angry retort.  
  
Much to the young man's surprise, Yoda simply sighed. "Qui-Gon's defiance I sense in you," he said in a frustrated tone. "Need that you do not," he muttered. Obi-Wan was surprised at how unfazed the Jedi Master was by his blatant defiance of the Council and the Code. It was almost as though he had been expecting it. This was nothing like how Obi-Wan had expected him to react. Now he wondered anxiously how Yoda would reply. The Jedi Master remained turned away, and there was a heavy silence for a few moments. Finally he replied with a hint of irritation, "Agree with you the Council does."  
  
Had Obi-Wan been in a position to speak at the moment, he would not have been able to. Agree? The word echoed through his mind, but he was unable to grasp its meaning. They couldn't possibly have decided... He wasn't even able to finish the thought. The idea was preposterous. Of all the things he could have fathomed hearing, he would never in a million years have bet on this outcome. But what else could Yoda have possibly meant by his words. The young Jedi had no idea what to think. Obi-Wan was completely and utterly dumbfounded.  
  
"Your apprentice Skywalker will be." Yoda's grave gaze alone was enough to unnerve the young man; but his dark, warning tone chilled Obi-Wan's entire being. Those words represented the incredible reality he was now faced with: just this morning he had been a padawan, and now he was a Master. As he thought back to Qui-Gon's proclamation of Anakin as the Chosen One, the added gravity of the situation sank in. The Council has just entrusted the training of a slave boy with unparalleled ability to a 25-year-old, newly initiated Knight. When he truly considered it, Obi-Wan had no idea what in the galaxy could have possessed them to do it. It was an unprecedented decision, he was sure of it. Obi-Wan was almost certain this could not be real. He could do nothing more than nod numbly and stare blankly out into the void, as all the while, Master Yoda's eyes studied him solemnly.  
  
*****  
  
The planet had turned itself away from its sun and into darkness by the time Obi-Wan reached the small, domed building. The night air was cool and full of moisture from the nearby lake, creating a serene atmosphere. The various Jedi and dignitaries of Naboo shuffled quietly into their spots around the tall pyre in the center of the room. Obi-Wan was already in his spot when Anakin entered with the Queen and Chancellor. The boy's distress was immediately apparent. Having come straight from his meeting with Yoda, Obi-Wan had not had time to talk with Anakin about the future. This was not the time nor place to have such a conversation. When Anakin spotted Qui- Gon's body, he swallowed hard and looked to be biting back tears.  
  
For his own part, Obi-Wan had already cried his tears. At the moment, he was too dizzy with confusion to truly let the reality of the situation sink in. So caught up in the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts running through his mind was he that he was only vaguely aware of Anakin and the Queen taking their places on either side of him. Obi-Wan simply stared ahead at the pyre, his face frozen in a neutral expression. He was glad for the hood that obscured his face, though. He was feeling extremely on edge and couldn't be sure one of his emotions might get the best of him at any moment. So he stared blankly ahead.  
  
But his eyes could not erase the scene before him. They had been fixed on Qui-Gon's motionless body from the moment Obi-Wan had entered. The only light in the room came from the torches Masters Windu and Mundi held alight at either end of the long stone pyre. The body was the only thing that could be seen clearly at the moment. Even as Obi-Wan stared at it, though, he was not sure he was really seeing it. He was not quite sure any of today's events had actually happened. They were all in their own right unbelievable, but combined, it was simply impossible. Maybe I'm dreaming, Obi-Wan thought to himself, though even as he did, he knew he couldn't be. He clearly remembered awakening that morning. The memory of Qui-Gon's good- natured smile was vivid in his mind's eye, seeming much more real than the present scene. Yet there was the truth for him to see himself: Qui-Gon Jinn was dead.  
  
That fact did not weigh nearly as heavily on Obi-Wan's mind as did its consequences. He had accepted Qui-Gon's death, though he suspected it would take a long time to fully heal from it. He believed his Master was one with the Force, and he knew he had died in the most noble manner possible. It was a fitting end to such a brave and wise Jedi. But Obi-Wan could not imagine a worse time for it to have happened. In the wake of Qui-Gon's death, everything seemed to be happening in an alternate galaxy from the one Obi-Wan had become accustomed to.  
  
Even his being made a knight, an event which both he and Qui-Gon had awaited for years, came with great caution attached. The future was uncertain. The boy at Obi-Wan's side sniffling softly to keep his tears from falling, he was the future. He held all its potential for success and ruin, and it was now Obi-Wan's task to guide him. But how could he even be certain he knew how to give guidance at all? He was great at taking advice, but had absolutely no experience giving it. As Obi-Wan continued to stare at the lifeless body before him, he was filled with a profound sense of how things might have been different. Had Qui-Gon lived... Obi-Wan shut his eyes tightly, pushing away the imaginary future beginning to take shape in his mind. There was no use wishing for what could not be. When he opened his eyes, nothing had changed. He began to realise that he had to accept this new fate and commit himself to it if it were to stand any chance of succeeding. It might not be perfect, but it was all he could do.  
  
Everyone had settled in and the room took on an utter stillness, the only movement that of the flames flickering on the torches. From his perched seat, Master Yoda began to speak evenly and calmly. "There is no emotion," he began, "there is peace."  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and breathed in the humid air deeply. He had heard the Code recited thousands of times, but had always tried not to let it become mundane. It always reminded him of what it truly meant to be a Jedi. He focused his thoughts on the words and tried to heed them, drawing on the Force to set himself in a calm, meditative state. His eyes remained closed as he listened to Master Yoda continuing.  
  
"There is no ignorance, there is knowledge."  
  
That was an easy thing to say, but a difficult thing for Obi-Wan to make himself remember. It always seemed as though the answers to his questions eluded him, and it took a great effort on his part not to become frustrated with this. But the answers were out there, nonetheless, if only he kept seeking them out. Even if it took him years to find them. He silently hoped they would not go unanswered that long.  
  
"There is no passion, there is serenity."  
  
The memories of his fight with the Sith crept back into his thoughts. His first reaction was to push them away, but in his meditative state, his mind was working more clearly, and he saw the memories for what they truly were- lessons. He recalled how anxious he had been, and how his fiery anger had fuelled his aggression. It had taken the calming effect of the Light Side to overcome the seemingly insurmountable challenge. He tried to tap into that serenity now to push away his apprehensions of the future.  
  
Obi-Wan opened his eyes and for the first time, really took in the sight. What lay on the pyre was now nothing more than a shell, a symbol of something that had once been. But what was more, Obi-Wan realised, it was a symbol of sacrifice. Qui-Gon had died ensuring the safety and future of countless others. And what sacrifice will be asked of me? Obi-Wan wondered. He had no way of knowing, only a vague sense of a long road ahead. It was not a matter of making the right choice or the wrong choice anymore, but of standing by the choice he had made. Perhaps the outcome was already decided, then, and he needn't worry. He tried to fix that thought in his mind, but could not keep himself from wondering how things could have been different. How things might have been if Qui-Gon were not dead.  
  
"There is no death, there is the Force," Master Yoda said. It was as though the words were meant only for Obi-Wan. He reminded himself that the wisdom and strength of Qui-Gon would always be with him, as long as he sought it. As Yoda finished, Mace and Ki-Adi laid their torches on either side of the body. The wood began to crackle and in a matter of seconds, the flames were burning high, engulfing the Jedi Master's body. With it, they burned away the last remnants of Obi-Wan's old life, a life in which Qui-Gon would see him made a knight and the two would remain friends and allies for decades to come. That life had been the one Obi-Wan had always expected, but it was not the one he had been dealt. He suddenly felt Anakin stirring restlessly beside him, and for the first time since Yoda's announcement, felt his new reality. Slowly turning to the side, Obi-Wan was met with Anakin's fretful gaze.  
  
"What will happen to me now?" the boy asked, full of apprehension.  
  
"The Council have granted me permission to train you," Obi-Wan replied, grateful to finally be able to deliver the boy some good news. Anakin, however, still seemed uncertain. "You will be a Jedi," Obi-Wan stated resolutely. "I promise," he added with an air of finality. Had the boy known Obi-Wan, he would have realised the Jedi was not someone to make promises lightly, or to break them. He had promised Qui-Gon, and now Anakin, that he would train the boy. There would be no betrayal of those promises. But Anakin didn't know Obi-Wan; that was half the problem. The boy was sad and lost and light-years away from the only home he had ever known. As they both turned back to watch the flaming pyre, Obi-Wan contemplated what Anakin's response to the news meant. Had Obi-Wan expected him to be happy? Perhaps, but there was no blaming Anakin for being doubtful of such proclamations at this point. Obi-Wan realised that before he could even begin to train Anakin, they would both have to get to know each other better. It was imperative that Anakin understand how seriously Obi-Wan took his commitment to the boy.  
  
It was all far too much to think about at the moment, however, so Obi-Wan focused himself on the old life that was burning away before his eyes instead. The flames were consuming Qui-Gon's body at an increasingly quick pace; soon, all that would be left was ash. But his will exerted itself even now. He had wished for Anakin to be trained, and now that wish was going to be fulfilled. Even though Qui-Gon's body would soon be gone forever, Obi-Wan was sure he had never felt his presence so keenly. Is it his presence? Obi-Wan asked himself silently. Or his absence? But the young Jedi Master could find no answers, only more questions.  
  
*****  
  
The scissors moved carefully along the nape of Anakin's neck as the boy struggled to stay still. The handmaiden's face was set in a look of concentration as she evened up the ends of the boy's hair. Finally, she stood back and eyed her work, then glanced at Obi-Wan.  
  
"Very good, thank you," the Jedi declared. The young woman nodded and quietly exited the room, leaving Obi-Wan alone with Anakin.  
  
The boy rubbed his hands ferociously through his newly cropped hair, sending shards of blonde clippings everywhere. A few landed on Obi-Wan's cloak. He brushed them off with mild annoyance. He tried to remember if this is what it had been like for him as a newly initiated Padawan. He wasn't sure whether to be saddened or happy to discover that he couldn't remember.  
  
Anakin surveyed his new haircut in the mirror. "I like it," he said, a crooked smile slowly creeping onto his face. He looked up at Obi-Wan. "It's just like yours."  
  
Obi-Wan studied the boy's admiring face for a moment. It made him a little nervous to be held in such high regard, but it did feel good to be the one looked up to for once. He turned around, hiding the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "There is one more thing," he said over his shoulder.  
  
"What?" Anakin asked curiously.  
  
As Obi-Wan took Qui-Gon's lightsabre from his belt, his momentary smile faded into a solemn expression. Holding the hilt vertically, he flicked on the brilliant green blade, turning the power setting down. With his left hand, he grasped his Padawan braid, holding it out away from his head. In a careful movement, he cut through the strand. His neck tingled for a moment from the blade, and then he was holding his braid in his hand. Obi-Wan stared at the locks for a moment. The braid had been a symbol of who he was for so long, and now it was simply gone. Somehow, the moment lacked the ceremonious quality he had always thought it would have. He closed the sabre, clipped it back onto his belt, and ran his right hand through his hair. Where the braid had been, a scorched bit of hair remained. Not perfect, but considering he'd had to do it himself, not too bad. Anyway, he could fix it later.  
  
Obi-Wan turned back towards Anakin, who was watching him intently. Crouching down, he waved the boy over to him. Obi-Wan studied the long lock of hair behind the boy's ear for a moment, then took the scissors off the counter and snipped off part of the braid in his hand. Anakin stood quietly, unquestioning as Obi-Wan carefully wove the strands together, tying off both ends with thin pieces of string. He rocked back on his heels and studied Anakin's new braid. "That should do until your hair grows long enough," he said.  
  
Anakin turned towards the mirror and looked at the braid appraisingly. A smile spread across the boy's face. "I'm really a Jedi."  
  
I'm really a Jedi Master, Obi-Wan thought. It was still incredible to comprehend. The thought struck him that this would come as quite a shock to his acquaintances back at the temple. He had been frustrated with being one of the last in his age group to be knighted, but now he would be ahead of them all. They would be speechless. But Obi-Wan couldn't afford to sit there all day. After all, the parade would be starting soon. He cringed inwardly at the thought; he had never been fond of such excessive celebration. Yet even that prospect couldn't dampen his spirits at the moment. The young Master allowed himself a small, satisfied smile as he stood and patted Anakin on the shoulder. "Come along, Padawan," he said, using the word quite deliberately. Perhaps it was a little ridiculous, but it felt good to use it.  
  
"Yes, Master," Anakin replied. The two exchanged restrained grins before heading out into the hall. Obi-Wan could not completely forget the serious challenge that lay in front of both of them, nor everything that had passed the day before. But the long night's sleep had helped to put his mind at ease. Now he was determined to let both of them enjoy the moment. There would be plenty of time to worry later.  
  
****** 


	2. Episode II: A Master's Legacy

In the Shadow of the Chosen  
Episode II: A Master's Legacy  
Part 1  
  
Anakin Skywalker fidgeted anxiously in his seat as the shuttle began its landing cycle. Obi-Wan felt he should say something to help calm the boy's nerves. Several members of the Council were sitting across from them watching, but pretending not to. Would it be wrong to say something to Anakin to try to calm the boy down? He didn't want to be overbearing. On the other hand, he certainly didn't want the Council to think he was unaware of the boy's apprehension. Though Obi-Wan knew it was never good to center on your anxieties, he couldn't blame the boy for being nervous. After all, he was about to enter the Jedi Temple, with his reputation proceeding him. There would undoubtedly be many curious glances and whispers. Obi-Wan felt the exact same way, he was just better at hiding it.  
  
He had to say something. "Don't worry, Anakin," he said, looking ahead but not at anyone specifically.  
  
"I'm not worried," Anakin replied. "I'm excited." Obi-Wan briefly glanced at the boy, then looked away. Anakin continued, "I've only seen part of the Temple. Are you going to show me the rest of it?"  
  
"Perhaps," Obi-Wan replied uncertainly. He wasn't sure what the Council had in mind. None of them had said a thing to him the entire trip back from Naboo. Everyone had just been sitting around silently, thinking who knew what about the odd pair before them. Obi-Wan had never been one to talk a lot, but the taciturn atmosphere was almost unbearable. He was surprised at how quiet Anakin had remained and was grateful for it. Obi-Wan had worried that the boy would want to talk all the way back to Coruscant, and felt uncomfortable talking under the attentive gaze of the Council members. He knew how much Yoda disapproved of the situation. There were almost certainly others who had dissented as well. Now they would all be watching him, waiting for him to prove them right or wrong.  
  
The shuttle settled onto the landing pad. There was a mechanical hiss as the ramp began to lower. Obi-Wan had planned to wait until a few Council members had disembarked to exit. He was determined not to rush away. Anakin, however, was the first one on his feet. Obi-Wan hesitated a moment and cursed silently. He couldn't have his padawan running off without him, but why couldn't Anakin have sat still for a moment? After catching Yoda's thoughtful look, he knew he had to do something. "Anakin!" he called sharply as he stood. The boy stopped and gave him an innocently questioning look. The pointed look Obi-Wan gave him in return left no room for questioning. The boy's face fell a little as he walked back to his Master's side. The two remained standing as several Council members went by them.  
  
Master Windu stopped next to Obi-Wan. "I will have these items placed in the Archives," he said, indicating Qui-Gon's robe and lightsabre. Obi-Wan had handed them over before they'd left Naboo. It would have been awkward for him to have held onto them the entire trip.  
  
"Thank you Master Windu," Obi-Wan replied. Mace nodded in reply and made his way down the ramp. Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan. He supposed they'd waited long enough, so he nodded to his padawan and led the way. The Coruscant sun was low in the sky but would not be setting for at least another hour. Which meant the evening meal would be served in half that time. Obi-Wan was not relishing the idea of having to confront hundreds of fellow Jedi right away. If only they could have arrived a little later and gone straight to sleep, he could have put off the inevitable confrontations a bit longer.  
  
But he wasn't about to let them intimidate him. Obi-Wan raised his chin a little and tried to look nonchalant as he strode into the Temple. The corridors were relatively narrow and lined with doors on either side. There appeared to be no one there. They had probably already gone to eat.  
  
"I've never been here," Anakin said, taking in his surroundings as he walked.  
  
"This is the residential area," Obi-Wan explained. He turned to his left. After a few seconds, he realised Anakin hadn't followed him. Sighing, he called his apprentice's name.  
  
The boy appeared at the end of the hallway, smirking sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't see where you went."  
  
Obi-Wan said nothing. It was clear that Anakin would take some time to adjust to his new surroundings, but he hoped it wouldn't be too long. At this rate, the boy would end up wandering himself off a landing platform. Obi-Wan made a mental note to put focus techniques at the top of his list of things to teach.  
  
"All these halls look the same, how do you know where you are?" Anakin asked.  
  
"I lived here," Obi-Wan said simply as he palmed the lock on a door and stepped inside. He considered leaving the lights off. He didn't plan to stay for long. The tinted window didn't let in enough light to really see by, but he didn't need to see to find his way around anyway. That was a function of familiarity more than the Force; he had been here countless times. But Anakin hadn't, he reminded himself. Obi-Wan turned the lights on half-way for the boy's sake. "Just wait here," Obi-Wan said. Anakin looked as though he were going to ask something for a moment, but he nodded silently instead. Obi-Wan turned and opened the door to his old room.  
  
Everything was exactly as he'd left it a few weeks before, which was to say that it was pretty much bare. There was no furniture besides the bed and dresser. He had never really spent much time in his room, and so he had never really needed anything else. Everything was painted in a monochromatic steel-blue colour that he had picked out years ago. It was plain, but comfortable.  
  
Obi-Wan began emptying his drawers neatly and systematically onto the bed. After a moment, Anakin appeared in the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot in ennui. When Obi-Wan said nothing, the boy quietly walked into the room and began looking around aimlessly. The Jedi Master counted out the identical sets of clothing and, satisfied, began stacking them up.  
  
"Do you always wear the same thing?" Anakin asked, looking from the stack of clothing to the monotone walls with a bit of disappointment etched into his expression.  
  
"Yes," Obi-Wan replied simply. "Oh," Anakin replied, looking around for something interesting to study, but finding nothing. "So it's like a uniform?"  
  
"Somewhat, but each Jedi wears their own variation," Obi-Wan explained as he picked up the stack and walked back into the main living area.  
  
"Do you get to chose?" Anakin asked as he tagged along behind.  
  
"Eventually," Obi-Wan replied. He looked around the room, making sure there wasn't anything else he was forgetting. There didn't seem to be. Everything a Jedi needed he usually kept on him.  
  
"When will I get to chose?"  
  
"I don't know," Obi-Wan sighed. Had he asked this many questions as a new padawan? He was fairly certain he hadn't. Or if he had, he regretted it now.  
  
Anakin dropped the line of questioning and looked around some more. His eyes landed on the door across the living area from Obi-Wan's. "Is that Qui- Gon's room?"  
  
There was a beat. "It was," Obi-Wan replied.  
  
Anakin looked contemplative for a moment. "So a Master and his apprentice live together, kind of like a family?"  
  
Those words jolted Obi-Wan a little. He remembered how he had come to think of Qui-Gon as a father at the end. He also remembered how that sentiment had drove him to anger and even hate. "The relationship between Master and Padawan is a close one, but it's not a family," Obi-Wan answered. "You must realise, the Jedi cannot afford to have attachments. They make you too vulnerable and too partial."  
  
Anakin looked a little surprised. "Oh," he replied quietly.  
  
Obi-Wan began to worry about how well the boy would adjust to this new life. So far he'd seemed enthusiastic, but what about after the glow faded? It was best to present the realities to the boy now rather than letting him develop false pretences. He turned towards the door and flicked the lights off, struggling to balance the stack of clothing at the same time.  
  
"I can help," Anakin offered.  
  
Obi-Wan glanced down at the boy, who smiled helpfully. "I'll be fine," Obi- Wan replied. He adjusted the stack under his chin and used the Force to open the door. The two stepped into the hallway and Obi-Wan willed the door to close again behind them. He could tell Anakin was impressed by the power, but made a point of saying nothing about it. Instead he began walking down the hallway towards the other end of the residential compound and their new apartment. Obi-Wan kept up a quick pace, hoping Anakin would worry about keeping up enough that he wouldn't wander off.   
  
Though he hadn't eaten since early that morning, Obi-Wan wasn't feeling very hungry. He would have been fine to make himself something simple at the apartment and stay in for the night. Anakin, on the other hand, seemed starved. To tell the truth, Obi-Wan was too. He just didn't want to go to the busiest place in the Temple at this time of day. Not right now, anyway. Yet he knew he had to, for his sake and for Anakin's. They'd have to become assimilated eventually, and it was best to start now. Obi-Wan knew that, but he still walked a little slowly as they approached the dining hall.  
  
"Do all Jedi eat together?" Anakin asked as he walked alongside Obi-Wan.  
  
"The dining hall is open for an hour and a half during each meal. No one's required to eat there, but most do."  
  
Though the boy didn't say it, it was clear that he was excited about the prospect of meeting more Jedi. Obi-Wan didn't know many of the masters himself, and was determined not to let himself be intimidated by them. He had nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, he should be proud and honoured that the Council had given him this assignment, no matter what the other Jedi might think. To be weak and self-conscious would only prove any skeptics right.  
  
"Here," Obi-Wan said, ushering Anakin ahead of him into the large room.  
  
The boy's wide eyes took in the sight- tables of Jedi of every age and race sitting all around the room. Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan, grinning in awe. The Jedi forced a tight smile and motioned for Anakin to keep walking forward. The line was fairly long, and Anakin looked hungrily at the full trays passing by. After a moment, however, he seemed to remember something and turned back to Obi-Wan. "Sorry, I know it's not polite to stare," he said with chagrin. "I'm just really hungry."  
  
"No, it's not polite. Just be patient, it won't be too long," Obi-Wan replied. He was glad to know he didn't have to teach the boy everything. He hadn't been sure what to expect from a boy who had grown up a slave on an outer rim planet. There would be enough to teach him as it was. Obi-Wan had no idea where he was going to begin yet, but knew he'd have to figure it out soon.  
  
The line moved a few feet and Anakin turned around to follow it. "My mom taught me that," he said as they walked. When Obi-Wan remained silent, the boy gave him a look that was almost expectant. It seemed the boy wanted a reply of some sort, but what was there to say? Obi-Wan had never been much for small talk and found it even more difficult to relate to children. He simply nodded a little. The boy turned back around quietly.  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes scanned the tables. He had wondered if there would be many curious eyes watching them or any hushed discussions. But the din of the hall remained the same, and if everyone was watching, they were doing a good job hiding it. Obi-Wan's eyes settled on the table he had usually sat at for the past several years. The masters with their nearly knighted padawans sat around talking and eating as usual. He knew them all, had known several of them since childhood, but hadn't become particularly close to many. It was the same with all of them. They were so frequently on missions that their masters became their closest friends at this age. If any of them were curious about Obi-Wan's surprising promotion, they didn't show it. He knew that, had he been in their position, he wouldn't have behaved any differently. Things changed, people moved on, and that was simply how it was. The Jedi had more important things to worry about than other Jedi most of the time. It was a momentous event in one's life to be Knighted, but the truth was that it would happen to almost all of the Jedi eventually. If their goals were to earn recognition, they were in the wrong place, Obi-Wan reminded himself.  
  
A familiar voice with a hint of a Corellian drawl broke into his thoughts. "Master Kenobi," the voice addressed him from behind. The tone held a bit of amusement, but mostly respect.  
  
"Padawan Brandeis," Obi-Wan replied as he turned around.  
  
The young man was a few years Obi-Wan's junior, with dark hair and eyes and a greyish tunic. He was smiling politely, but the expression quickly melted into a wry grin. "You leave for a few weeks and come back a master," Brandeis said, shaking his head. His expression became sincere, "I'm sorry about Qui-Gon."  
  
Part of Obi-Wan readied himself, expecting this to be the first of many such conversations. But another part of him knew the young man was only being sincere, and he knew he should appreciate that. He was prepared for more questions or comments, but after his few moments of silence, his friend surprised him by turning to Anakin.  
  
"And you must be Anakin Skywalker," the Jedi said, extending a hand in greeting. "Viljo Brandeis."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Anakin said with a smile as he and Brandeis shook hands. He glanced at the dark braid hanging over the young man's right shoulder. "You're a padawan too?" Brandeis nodded. "It takes a long time to become a knight, doesn't it?" he commented.  
  
Brandeis looked to Obi-Wan to answer, and Anakin's expecting gaze followed. Obi-Wan tensed a little. He had never been called upon to actually give any sort of teaching before. "Well," he began, "that all depends. Some people take longer than others, but that's not necessarily bad. It's just different for different people." He hoped that sounded like a wise answer. Anakin shrugged, seeming satisfied with the reply. The line moved up, and now they were nearly to the front.  
  
"I guess you won't be sitting with us," Brandeis asked.  
  
Obi-Wan glanced back at his old table, then at Brandeis. "No, I suppose not."  
  
"Well, that's too bad. Your cheer and endless conversation will be missed," the young man said with teasing sarcasm.  
  
It was a joke, but Obi-Wan knew it was true. He wasn't exactly the most talkative or light-hearted person to have around. Qui-Gon had always worried about him being too serious all the time. It would turn him prematurely grey, he'd said. Well it was a good thing now that he was more mature than most of the Jedi his age. It would take someone with a great understanding of the gravity of such a duty to train Anakin. It was a serious task and Obi-Wan took it very seriously.  
  
"There you go brooding again," Brandeis said, breaking into Obi-Wan's thoughts.  
  
The young Master shot his friend a glance. "What you call brooding, I call contemplation. I've always failed to see the flaw in wanting to think," Obi- Wan rejoined.  
  
"You're right, of course. As always," Brandeis replied with a smile that was too appeasing for Obi-Wan's liking. "You're lucky, Anakin," Brandeis said to the boy, who had been observing the exchange with quiet curiosity, "to have come under the tutelage of such an excellent Jedi. Well on his way to becoming a sage, and from an impeccable line of swordsmen to boot. What more could you ask for?"  
  
Obi-Wan locked eyes with Brandeis, acutely sensing the misgiving in his friend's tone. The insinuation was clear- it took more than intelligence and power to be a good master. Was he questioning Obi-Wan's abilities? If the Council had deemed him fit, then who was Viljo Brandeis to disagree? Obi-Wan could predict how this doubt would spread through the Temple like fire. No one was watching him now because they had no reason to, but at the first sign of weakness, all eyes would be focused on him and his padawan. It hurt that a friend should be the one to spark the doubt. Obi-Wan's indignation overcame his sense of propriety. "Well there are reasons that some of us are masters and some are Padawans," he replied in a light tone laced with annoyance.  
  
Brandeis recoiled a little at the words. The two men locked eyes, and Obi- Wan set his jaw, unwilling to back down. To his surprise, however, his friend's initial shock did not fade into anger. Instead, Brandeis studied his older friend in what could only be described as sorrow and confusion. "I've already eaten, I'd better get going. Master Trale will be wondering where I am," he said soberly. He managed to smile at Anakin, "I hope to see you soon. Let me know how your training is going."  
  
"I will," Anakin said with a tenuous smile and a sideward glance at Obi- Wan.  
  
"Nice to see you, Obi-Wan," the young man said a bit tersely. Then, in a kinder tone, "We should talk sometime soon, catch up on things."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded silently, not knowing what to say. Part of him felt he had every right to be angry at Viljo for not being supportive, but another knew he should apologize for snapping at him. He'd expected his friend to be angry so his inexplicable sorrow was disarming. When he didn't answer, Brandeis nodded and walked away silently. Obi-Wan turned back toward Anakin and gestured toward a stack of trays. The boy took one and offered another to Obi-Wan. "No thank you," the young man said. He had decided he definitely wasn't hungry.  
  
He walked quietly behind Anakin as the boy made his way through the rows of hot food. The boy took one roll and started to take another, but then hesitated. It seemed like he was going to ask Obi-Wan about it, but something stopped him. He can't even ask me about dinner. How is he going to learn to ask advice on anything? Obi-Wan wondered sadly. The absence of a Force bond between them was distinctly felt. It would develop overtime, he knew, but he couldn't help feeling as though there should at least be some connection to build upon. Right now there was none at all. "You can have two," he said, hoping at least to convince Anakin he had no ill will against him.  
  
Anakin gave him a hesitant look, then smiled. "Good, I'm hungry," he said as he put another roll on his tray and led the way back into the eating area. "Where do we sit?"  
  
"There's no designated seating arrangement," Obi-Wan replied slowly. He motioned toward a table on the far side of the room. "The masters and new padawans eat over there. Most of them have their apartment near ours as well."  
  
"That sounds good," Anakin said as he enthusiastically made his way towards the grouping with Obi-Wan in tow.  
  
The young man studied the individuals at the table as they approached. He wasn't surprised to find that he hardly recognized any of the masters or their apprentices. There were too many Jedi in the Temple to get to know all of them, and he had never had any reason to associate with these individuals before. The apprentices were a few years older than Anakin, but he was a bright boy for his age, and Obi-Wan didn't think that would be a problem. The masters, however, were all at least ten years Obi-Wan's senior, and some were twice his age. They had shown no signs of having even noticed him up until now, but he could not get the nagging thought out of brain that they were critiquing him in their minds. Or if they weren't, they soon would be. Obi-Wan's stomach clenched in apprehension as he and Anakin arrived at the table.  
  
"Hi," Anakin said jovially as he took an empty seat next to a Twi'Lek girl of about 12.  
  
The girl blinked a few times then smiled. "Hello," she said kindly. "Are you a new padawan?"  
  
"Yep, my name's Anakin and this is Master Obi-Wan," Anakin said. Clearly unsure of himself, he quickly added, "Kenobi," out of respect. Obi-Wan appreciated the gesture.  
  
"Of course," one of the middle-aged female masters said with a polite smile. "We've heard about you two. Please, Master Kenobi, won't you have a seat?" Obi-Wan managed a tight smile as he took the seat on the other side of Anakin, but couldn't think of anything to say. He once again prepared himself to be bombarded with questions, but the olive-skinned woman simply said, "I'm Begura Tyra, and this is my padawan Lena Mai'lon." She motioned across the table to the green-skinned Twi'lek girl, who nodded politely to Obi-Wan.  
  
"So you're the one from Tatooine?" Lena asked Anakin. He nodded in reply as he began to scarf down his food. "That's nice."  
  
"Aren't you going to eat something Master Kenobi?" Begura asked.  
  
"No thank you, I'm not hungry at the moment. Mostly just tired," Obi-Wan replied.  
  
"Of course, it's always like that after a mission," Begura said. "I'm sure you're very excited, Anakin, but try to remember to let Master Obi-Wan get his rest."  
  
Anakin nodded his promise to behave as he continued eating and chatting with Lena. Obi-Wan marvelled at the ease with which Master Tyra related to the padawans. It was admirable, but at the same time reminded him glaringly of his own discomfort with Anakin. All he needed was some time, though. Surely it was natural for a new master and padawan to have trouble communicating. The connection would come in time, he reminded himself, but as soon as he did, he was also reminded the complete lack of any initial connection with the boy.  
  
"You've had a particularly exhausting mission of course," a Master in his late thirties added. "And to have been entrusted then with such an unusual and gifted apprentice must be a heavy load indeed." His eyes met Obi-Wan's and this time the doubt the young man sensed was clearly unimagined.  
  
Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, trying to prepare a rebuttal. Then he realised he would only seem weaker if he acted as though he had something to prove. The trouble was, he did. Not to them, he told himself. No, he didn't care what the other masters thought. At least, he shouldn't. But their doubts were reminders of the doubts of several members of the Council, most noticeably, he remembered, Yoda. Obi-Wan fought viciously to quell those thoughts and reminded himself that there were still those who had believed in him enough to trust him with Anakin, including Qui-Gon. That thought gave him a much-needed boost of confidence. "It is a load I gladly bear," Obi-Wan replied evenly, all the while keeping his eyes locked with the older man's.  
  
"Come now, Ersha, and leave the questioning for later," Begura chided her colleague.  
  
"Of course," the man replied, taking a bite of his food. After swallowing he added, "I'm sure Young Master Kenobi has enough to worry about as it is without having to answer questions." Begura shot Ersha a sharp look. He casually exchanged glances with a few other masters nearby.  
  
It was a subtle exchange of mutual thoughts that did not go unnoticed by Obi-Wan. It wasn't meant to, he knew. Everything about the way he was acting toward Obi-Wan revealed Ersha's opinions on the matter, and it appeared that several other Masters agreed with him, if less boldly. Obi- Wan felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. He had only been with the other masters a few minutes, and already the dissenters were making themselves known. Obi-Wan's anxiety was quickly turning to irritation, and he had to work very hard to keep the colour in his face from rising.  
  
"Master Kenobi," Begura's friendly voice broke in. "Perhaps you and Anakin would like to practice sparring sometime."  
  
"Sparring?" Anakin asked brightly. "With lightsabres," Lena added with a smile.  
  
Anakin's face lit up. "Can we?" he asked Obi-Wan.  
  
Obi-Wan hesitated. "There is much you must learn before you're ready for that," he cautioned. "Thank you for the offer, Master Tyra, but we have a long way to go before then."  
  
"Of course," Begura replied. If she disagreed, she showed no sign of it, which Obi-Wan was infinitely grateful for. "I'm sorry to be bombarding you this way. It is just your first day back at the Temple." She grabbed her tray and stood up. "I'm sure you'll settle in just fine."  
  
"See you soon, Anakin," Lena said with a polite smile as she followed her master's lead. The boy waved, then went back to focusing on his meal.  
  
Obi-Wan focused his attention on restraining his ire. He folded his arms across his chest and tried to settle back in his chair. He focused on a spot on the far wall, avoiding the gazes of the other masters, especially Ersha and the few sitting around him. It was just as he'd suspected. They were all questioning, and they'd all be watching, watching him and especially his padawan. Obi-Wan knew that approval of others was far from the most important thing, but what if they were right? It would be unwise to completely ignore the opinions of others. A tremendous endeavour had been set before him, and Obi-Wan's heart began to sink as the enormity of reality settled in. Being a padawan had been a long and trying time in his life, but if this day was any indication, being a Master was going to be a thousand times more difficult.  
  
The walk back to the apartment was made in relative silence. Anakin asked about a few rooms they passed, and Obi-Wan methodically answered. There was no real conversation, mostly because Obi-Wan was doing his best to hurry back without having to encounter any more questioning Jedi. Thankfully, there were none, and the two made it back to the apartment in good time.  
  
The instant they stepped inside, Anakin caught sight of the view out the window and rushed over to get a better look. "Woah," he gasped as his eyes scanned the brilliantly lit night skyline.  
  
Obi-Wan had been about to turn on the lights in the room, but apparently Anakin had made his way through the unfamiliar space easily enough. He left them off and quietly moved to the boy's side. Obi-Wan stood gazing out the window at nothing in particular.  
  
"Does it ever get dark here?" Anakin asked as his eyes attempted to distinguish one set of blurred speeder lights from the next.  
  
"No," Obi-Wan replied. "The planet's always busy." There was a pause, then he added, on an impulse, "But amidst the rush, a Jedi must learn to be at peace." He glanced down at Anakin to see if the advice had registered, but the boy didn't respond. Obi-Wan had hoped Anakin would be a little more attentive, but something seemed to be troubling him.  
  
"There aren't any cities like this on Tatooine," Anakin said. "Most of the buildings there are really small. And there are never this many air speeders!" he looked down into the seemingly endless crevice, mesmerized.  
  
The mellow darkness was reminding Obi-Wan how tired he was. Between the battle, celebration, and travel, he had hardly gotten any sleep the last few nights. When there had been time to sleep, he hadn't really been able to. There was too much on his mind. He tried to think of the last good night's sleep he'd gotten, and realised it had been the night he'd spent in the tent on the floor of the Naboo forest. It seemed odd that there of all places had been the most restful. He stifled a yawn and turned towards his room. "You should be getting to bed. I'm sure you're tired," he said to Anakin over his shoulder.  
  
Obi-Wan did not wait for a reply, but kept walking. He figured Anakin would probably get tired of looking at the skyline eventually. It seemed a little odd to Obi-Wan, but he reminded himself that this planet was definitely much different than Tatooine. The young man had almost reached his door when he heard a soft sniffle from the other side of the room. Immediately, he stopped and turned around.  
  
Was Anakin crying? Though he was still standing by the window, he was no longer looking out it. Instead, his attention was focused on something in his hand. Obi-Wan took a cautious step towards the boy, not quite sure what to say or do. A million things rushed through his head. How were masters supposed to learn how to teach their padawans? Did they normally encounter situations like this? How did they deal with it? He tried to remember back to when he had first been a padawan and what it had been like, hoping perhaps there was some incident he could recall similar to this. Unfortunately, all he could remember was being very happy to have Qui-Gon as a master and hanging intently on his every word. That wasn't exactly how Obi-Wan would describe his relationship with Anakin so far.  
  
One thing Obi-Wan did remember, though, was that Qui-Gon had always been very compassionate towards Anakin, and that this had always seemed to make the boy feel better. Hesitantly, Obi-Wan approached his padawan and quietly asked, "Are you all right?"  
  
The boy's head snapped up in surprise, and Obi-Wan could see his moistened eyes glistening. Anakin's right hand quickly shot up to wipe them as his left clenched tightly around something at his side. "I was just..." Anakin trailed off as his cheeks reddened slightly.  
  
Obi-Wan noted the boy's chagrin without a word. Then his eyes slid to Anakin's side and the hand that was clasped so tightly. Obi-Wan gave Anakin a questioning look. "What's that?" he asked, trying to sound interested without being interrogative.  
  
He wasn't sure he succeeded very well. Anakin looked away nervously. "It's nothing," he mumbled, then his eyes went back up to meet Obi-Wan's. The boy's resolve seemed to soften a bit. Obi-Wan stretched out an open palm and Anakin tentatively placed a strange necklace of long beads in it. The Jedi Master studied it intently for a moment, then looked to Anakin again. "My mom made it for me when I was little," the boy replied.  
  
Warning signals silently triggered in Obi-Wan's head. Attachment and possession was, of course, forbidden. He tried to decide how to explain this to Anakin, but before he could say anything, the boy asked, "What's your mom like?"  
  
That question caught Obi-Wan off-guard and derailed his line of thinking. He stared at Anakin for a moment. No one had ever asked him that before. The thought had never even occurred to him. "I don't know," he replied finally. "I don't know her. I was brought here when I was less than a year old."  
  
Anakin looked surprised. "She never came to visit you?" he asked. Obi-Wan shook his head, and the boy's eyes grew sympathetic. "I'm sorry," he said softly.  
  
Obi-Wan could have almost laughed if not for Anakin's sincerity. "There's nothing to be sorry about," Obi-Wan answered honestly, "this is the life I've always known. It's that way with all Jedi. This is our home; we're connected to everyone in it." His tone turned grave. "Anakin, you must realise, to become too attached to any one thing or person is dangerous."  
  
Anakin's brow furrowed. "I don't understand," he said.  
  
"You will in time," Obi-Wan said with a sigh. "You must be overwhelmed right now, but soon you'll begin to understand about all aspects of a Jedi's life and the Force." Anakin nodded, but his eyes seemed distant. Obi- Wan hesitated a moment, desperately wanting to get to sleep but not wanting to give Anakin any worse of a first impression. The boy had already heard the opinions of the other masters on the subject, though he hadn't really seemed to listen to them. Still, Obi-Wan wanted to get off on the right foot. "There's something else bothering you," he said, "what is it?"  
  
"Well," Anakin said quietly, looking away at the ground. "I miss Qui-Gon." There was a heavy beat. The boy looked up. "Don't you?" he asked sorrowfully.  
  
The truth was, of course, that Obi-Wan missed Qui-Gon very much, now more than before. He knew that if Qui-Gon were here, he would have all the right answers on how to train Anakin. Of course, if he were, Obi-Wan wouldn't be training Anakin in the first place. Obi-Wan tried not to think about where the blame lay in the matter. Instead, he gave Anakin a standard reply. "Qui- Gon has become one with the Force."  
  
The answer clearly didn't satisfy the boy. If anything, it seemed to make him more sad. "That's what everyone says, and that because the Force is all around us it means part of Qui-Gon is with us... but I miss him." He looked up directly at Obi-Wan. Something in the eagerness of the gaze made the young man nervous. Anakin was searching for something, and Obi-Wan was afraid of what the boy would decide he'd found. "I know Masters aren't your parents, but it just seems like, in a way, they become like it." Anakin timidly looked away, adding, as if as an afterthought, "I've never had a dad."  
  
Obi-Wan worked extremely hard to keep his anxiety from creeping into his voice. "I haven't either," he replied evenly. "So I suppose I understand," he caught sight of Anakin's disappointed face, and added, "somewhat."  
  
It was clearly not the kind of response the boy had been hoping for, but Obi-Wan knew he could not give him what he was seeking. Obi-Wan was just coming to grips with the idea of being a master, and that was clearly not going to come easily. He decisively did not need to extra weight of being looked upon as a father-figure. Besides, he couldn't imagine why Anakin would think that of him in the first place. He remembered with slight reluctance how Qui-Gon had become that to him, but that was unavoidable, really. Qui-Gon was such a natural caregiver and encourager, someone you couldn't help but feel affection for. Obi-Wan wanted to be looked up to, of course, even emulated. He was not, however, capable of or desiring of being anyone's parent. It was clear that Anakin would have to learn the difference between a mentor and family. The way his mother did things and the way Obi-Wan did things were bound to be very different, but Obi-Wan was confident the boy could make the adjustment. He just needed to be pointed in the right direction.  
  
"You should get to sleep," Obi-Wan said in a tone of authority. "You have important training to begin tomorrow."  
  
"Yes, Master," Anakin replied with a nod. Obi-Wan waited for him to head to his room, but the boy seemed hesitant. He nodded towards the necklace still in Obi-Wan's hand. "Are you going to get rid of it?" he asked, trying not to sound too distressed, but not succeeding.  
  
Obi-Wan looked down at the necklace, noting the handmade care that had gone into it. He wasn't sure how the Council would react to Anakin keeping memoirs from home. They would probably never know, of course, but their reasoning still remained. It didn't seem like a good idea, yet the boy was clearly pleading silently to keep it, as evidenced by his taught stance. Everything Obi-Wan had been taught told him to get rid of it, that Anakin would more easily get over the transition if the olds bonds were cleanly severed. Something told him, though, that to get rid of the necklace would only make Anakin resent him. So instead, he replied, "I'll hang on to it for you."  
  
Anakin looked relieved, but fidgeted a little. "When can I get it back?"  
  
"We'll see. It may be a while," Obi-Wan cautioned. "You needn't worry about it."  
  
That answer seemed to satisfy Anakin as much as he was going to be satisfied with the decision. "Ok," he said as he turned to head for his room. "Good night, Master," he said as he disappeared behind his closing door.  
  
Obi-Wan stared at the metal door for a few moments, then headed back to his own room. He looked around for a good place to put the necklace. This new room was that of the master rather than the apprentice, and as such was a bit larger. It was still empty, though. He doubted that would really change. He was happy, though, to find that it had a closet with shelves for clothing and various other items. The necklace could sit on one of the smaller ones, he thought, with some other personal effects. He set it on a shelf at eye-level, and looked at it for a moment. No matter how hard he tried, he could not keep it from reminding him of Anakin's deep desire for family. What was more, it reminded him of Qui-Gon's cloak and lightsabre sitting in some hall in the archives, a stale reminder of sentiments that were best forgotten, of bonds that could not simply be severed instantly. Obi-Wan picked up the necklace and moved it to the top shelf, out of sight.  
  
"Where are we going again?" Anakin asked as his eyes roamed the hallways.  
  
Obi-Wan let out a sigh. It was the third time in ten minutes Anakin had asked that question. Rubbing his forehead, the Jedi replied, "Master Yoda requested that you join his class this morning."  
  
They continued for only a few more paces before Anakin asked, "I thought you were going to teach me?"  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes immediately flicked down to meet his apprentice's. Thankfully, the boy did not seem doubtful, only curious. "Yes, well," Obi- Wan tried to speak casually as he looked back up, "I will. I am. But there are some basics to be taught that Padawans usually already know from their years of training here at the Temple."  
  
"When will you start teaching me to use a lightsabre?" the boy asked expectantly.  
  
"Not until you've mastered some basic Force principles," Obi-Wan replied decisively. Anakin looked a little disappointed but seemed to understand. He grew quiet, and began examining the statues in the hallway as he passed.  
  
The question reminded Obi-Wan of the absence of the familiar weapon from his side. Now that he had turned Qui-Gon's lightsabre over to the Temple, he felt vulnerable and defenceless. Well, he thought with a smile to himself as he remembered all the hand-to-hand combat training he'd had, not entirely defenceless. Still, it felt wrong not to have a lightsabre. He would have to construct a new one soon.  
  
"Here we are," Obi-Wan said, stopping in front of a silver door. He noticed Anakin's apprehension rising visibly and could feel it pulsating through his strong Force presence, but was unable to get a good read on the boy's thoughts. Anakin was blocking him out, he realised, even if unintentionally. That gave Obi-Wan a moment of pause, but he quickly pushed his thoughts away. It wouldn't do to be late.  
  
Obi-Wan palmed the door open and led the way inside. As soon as he entered, he was filled with an odd sense of nostalgia. Yoda was standing in the middle of a group of initiates, all a few years younger than Anakin. It had been almost 20 years since the last time Obi-Wan had been in this particular room, but the details all came back to him easily- the pointed ceiling, the cool white floor, those fluorescent lights that seemed to ignite everything in a pure radiant light. He remembered how it had seemed like a strange room at the time. Now he clearly understood the purpose of the blank room. Young minds were easily distracted from the task at hand. This way, the only thing for them to focus on was Master Yoda and whatever he might bring before them. It was a brilliant bit of teaching. Master Yoda was a brilliant teacher. When Obi-Wan had been a pupil, he had wanted to learn everything he could from him.  
  
The initiates in the room now seemed to hold a similar respect for the Jedi Master. They were situating themselves on small cushions, but watching Yoda attentively all the while. Several stopped to glance curiously at the new arrivals. Obi-Wan just nodded a little awkwardly, unsure of what to say. It was ridiculous, but for some reason the initiates made him almost more nervous than the other masters. He'd never been very comfortable around children. He never knew how to find the right balance between speaking in terms they'd understand and not insulting their intellect.  
  
"Master Kenobi," Yoda's weathered voice seemed unusually bright and cheery. "Happy am I that you could join us. And Padawan Skywalker." He pointed his gimmer stick at an unoccupied cushion between two of the initiates. "Have a seat."  
  
Obi-Wan watched quietly as Anakin somewhat reluctantly made his way to the empty spot, meeting the eyes of the curious younglings along the way. After settling himself into the cross-legged position he saw the others holding he gave a small smile to his peers. They smiled back politely. It was clear they were very curious about the young Padawan, and a few poorly concealed glances in his direction told Obi-Wan they were equally curious about his young Master. Fortunately, they had been well trained enough not to ask impolite questions. It was much better that way, Obi-Wan thought. Now if only some of his fellow masters could remember the discipline themselves.  
  
"Continue our exercise on concentration, we will," Yoda instructed as he began hobbling to the center of the circle. He pulled out a handful of pebbles from a pouch on his belt and laid them in a pile on the floor. "Concentrate on moving one," he said as he stepped back a little. The initiates' faces scrunched as they tried to focus on the task. A few closed their eyes. The pebbles rocked back and forth and a few lifted shakily off the ground. Obi-Wan folded his arms and shifted his weight as he observed the simple exercise. He could hardly remember what it was like for it to be so hard just to move a little rock with the Force.  
  
Suddenly, the entire pile of rocks lifted off the floor and began to slowly hover higher and higher into the air. The children stopped what they were doing and stared. The ones whose eyes had been closed opened them and watched as well. As the rocks began to move higher into the air, everyone slowly began to look at Anakin. He was sitting with his eyes closed, breathing deeply in what seemed to be concentration.  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes moved back and forth between the boy and the floating stones. He couldn't believe that Anakin had picked up on the task so easily. It usually took at least several weeks for the initiates to get the exercise right. Anakin's Force potential was already making itself evident. It was only the first real day of his training and already he had easily mastered the first exercise. Obi-Wan looked on appraisingly.  
  
A sharp whack to the back of Obi-Wan's left leg startled him out of his reverie. He let out a small cry, more out of surprise than out of pain. The sound was quickly followed by the noise of all the stones clattering to the stone floor. Whirling around, Obi-Wan saw Yoda with his gimmer stick in hand. He knew this had to be part of some sort of lesson, as it always was with Yoda, but that didn't stop him from being irritated for the moment.  
  
The small Master gazed up at Obi-Wan. In a quiet tone, he said, "Master the exercise he did not." Obi-Wan clenched his jaw and tried to compose himself. These lessons were even more annoying when Yoda let you know he could sense your thoughts. He was always bound to turn them around on you. "Padawan Skywalker," Yoda addressed the boy in a louder voice, "feel you have done well, do you?"  
  
"Well... I think so," Anakin admitted.  
  
Yoda exhaled sharply. "Humph... remember the instructions, do you?"  
  
Anakin glanced around at the other pupils, then back at Yoda. "You said to move the pebbles, sir. So that's what I did..." he trailed off. He shot Obi- Wan a look that asked was that the wrong answer? The Jedi Master said nothing, though he had a pretty good idea of what Yoda was getting at.  
  
"One," Yoda said as he rapped his gimmer stick on the floor lightly. "Instruct you to move one, did I. Yet move all of them you did."  
  
There was a beat before Anakin replied. "But I did concentrate-"  
  
"Ah!" Yoda interrupted. "Concentrate, did you? Yet distracted you were by Master Kenobi." He looked up at Obi-Wan, "as distracted was he." The young man looked away. No one said anything for a moment. The initiates were hanging on Yoda's every word while Anakin looked on in confusion. Finally, Yoda replied, "If focusing on only one, were you, then aware of your surroundings could you have been."  
  
Anakin shifted slightly on his pillow. "I guess," he said, not sounding too convinced.  
  
"Hmm," Yoda eyed the boy contemplatively. "Much to learn of concentration have you before able to use the Force fully will you be." His glance fleetingly landed on Obi-Wan as he muttered, "Yes, much to learn of concentration."  
  
As much ire and embarrassment as Obi-Wan felt, deep down he knew Yoda was right. It did no good to use the Force blindly. One had to be able to control it properly. More importantly, one had to be able to tap into the living Force so as to be aware of everything going on around him. Without control, the Force was a very dangerous thing. But Obi-Wan knew that. In fact, hadn't he told himself he was going to teach Anakin about concentration? He was a little annoyed by the fact that Yoda seemed to think he needed to tell Obi-Wan how to instruct his padawan. Did no one have faith in him? He had not forgotten what Yoda's sentiments on him training the boy had been.  
  
Yoda called all the pebbles back into his hand and placed them in the center of the room once again. Obi-Wan assumed he was going to instruct the students to start again, but to his surprise, he turned to him instead. "Master Kenobi," he said, "demonstrate the exercise, will you?"  
  
Obi-Wan blinked. It seemed like a ridiculously easy task. Why would Yoda ask him to do it? Nevertheless, he replied, "Of course." His eyes settled on one pebble, and in a flash it was in the air. One of the younglings let out a little gasp of surprise.  
  
"And the rest," Yoda instructed, adding, "one at a time."  
  
Obi-Wan began picking up the stones with the Force and bringing them into the air to float in a circle. Without any warning, Yoda threw his gimmer stick into the formation. Obi-Wan had sensed it coming, however, and quickly split the stones apart to make a path. The stick circled around and landed in Yoda's outstretched hand, and the rock formation quickly regrouped without a single stone dropping.  
  
"Thank you, Master Kenobi. Put them back now you may."  
  
The stones slowly lowered back into a neat circle on the floor. All the young Jedi looked at Obi-Wan in admiration, which seemed silly to him. All he had done was move a couple of stones. What was so difficult about that? Then he remembered how much difficulty they had all had with it themselves, and he almost smiled. He supposed he had been like that once, just starting to discover the ways of the Force. It seemed like a small thing to him now, but at that age it would have been quite impressive. Still, what good did it do to impress a bunch of children?  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan noticed Anakin watching him. He turned toward his Padawan and the boy smirked in approval. A small smile tugged at one corner of Obi-Wan's mouth. He looked back down at Yoda and found that the Jedi Master was watching him intently with a contented look of his own. I suppose this means I'll have to thank him, Obi-Wan thought wryly.  
  
The training rooms were bustling with activity as midday hit. Obi-Wan was glad now that he had reserved one before deciding to come. The facilities were three floors up and on the opposite side of the building from Yoda's small classrooms. Obi-Wan was glad that Anakin hadn't wandered off during the walk over. Now, however, there were much more interesting things to look at. As soon as they entered the facilities, Obi-Wan could see Anakin's eyes light up. This sector of the combat training facility contained 5 rectangular rooms arranged in a pentagon around a resting and waiting area. At the moment, the benches in the center were all occupied by Jedi of various ages, ranks, and races. Some were coming, some going; others were simply watching practices through the full length glass walls each training room had.  
  
It did not take long for Anakin to notice where most of the others' eyes were fixed. He turned in the direction of their gazes and stared with a look of awe. Obi-Wan followed the boy's gaze to one of the larger rooms in the sector. Inside, an informal lightsabre sparring session was taking place. The two combatants were moving quickly at first, their jade and sapphire blades whirling in a beautiful, rhythmic motion. When the pace shifted to a more technical, careful one, Obi-Wan immediately recognized the participants: Master Tyra and the other master who had spoken to him at the evening meal. He remembered that his name was Ersha, but realised he didn't know if that was his first or last name, or what the rest of it was. What he did remember was how snide Ersha had been. Obi-Wan ground his teeth together unconsciously at the memory.  
  
"Hey Anakin!" a voice called. Both Anakin and Obi-Wan turned to see a small green Twi'Lek girl approaching with a sturdy boy with short, wavy brown hair who looked to be about her age.  
  
"Hi Lena," Anakin greeted the girl with a smile.  
  
"Master Kenobi," Lena acknowledged Obi-Wan with a polite nod. Then, addressing both of them, she introduced the other boy, "This is Ryu, Master Dargo's apprentice."  
  
"Just Ryu?" Anakin asked good naturedly.  
  
"Well my full name is Goi'Ryu-Ne Chu'Sai-Wa," the boy paused to let the complicated name sink in. "Which is why I just go by Ryu," he finished with a grin.  
  
"A wise decision," Obi-Wan remarked. "You said you were the padawan of a Master... Dargo?" he asked, unfamiliar with the name.  
  
"Ersha Dargo," Ryu clarified, motioning in the direction of the sparring which was still going on.  
  
"Ah," Obi-Wan's voice chilled noticeably. He forced himself to say nothing more.  
  
The boy turned his attention down to Anakin. "You watching them?"  
  
Anakin nodded in reply. "They're really good." The boy's eye's drifted back to the training room.  
  
"Yeah, it's always fun to watch Masters Dargo and Tyra fighting. Neither of them is really fast or strong, but they're still interesting," Ryu said.  
  
"They're sparring, not fighting," Lena corrected. "And sometimes technique is more important than being super fast or strong."  
  
"I know that," Ryu replied, a little chagrined. After a second, a thought seemed to occur to him, and he turned to Anakin. "Are you starting your lightsabre training today? I heard about you. You're supposed to be really strong in the Force."  
  
Obi-Wan was getting a little impatient. He broke in before Anakin could reply. "It will be a while before we reach that point. This is only his first full day at the Temple, Padawan Ryu. It's hardly the time to start sabre training. We're here to begin learning the katas." The words came out sounding very authoritative and very much like a small lecture. Obi-Wan was surprised at how naturally it had happened.  
  
"Ah, that makes sense," Ryu said after considering the pointed comments for a moment. "You have to start somewhere."  
  
At least Obi-Wan's words could reach somebody, he thought with a mix of relief and frustration as he noticed that Anakin was still focused on the ongoing combat. "Yes, we certainly should be starting." He eyed Anakin, who still seemed oblivious to the conversation. "Padawan," he said. After getting no response, he added more sharply, "Anakin."  
  
This time the boy noticed he was being addressed. He tore his eyes away from the match slowly and looked up at Obi-Wan. "Yes, Master?" he asked, apparently oblivious to anything that had been happening outside the training room.  
  
Once again, focus, Obi-Wan thought, holding in a sigh. "This way," he said, trying not to sound too angry. He pointed to the empty room on their right, which he had reserved.  
  
"Oh," Anakin said, taking a few steps towards the room. "Bye," he added, pausing to wave to Lena and Ryu, then continuing on his way.  
  
Obi-Wan made sure to stay behind him this time, so as not to lose him to some other distraction. It is, after all, all of 50 meters. Force knows what interesting things might exist between here and there-more new acquaintances, an interesting overheard conversation... a particularly reflective floor tile. Fortunately, they made it to the room without incident. Once inside, the din of the outside chatter was almost completely inaudible through the glass wall. The other Jedi now outside looking in made Obi-Wan a little uncomfortable, though; and he was certain they would do nothing to help Anakin's concentration. With a flip of a switch on the wall, the window changed to an opaque grey.  
  
Letting out a sigh of relief, Obi-Wan removed his cloak and hung it on a hook on the wall. Then he proceeded to plop himself onto the single bench in the room and remove his boots. Half-way through removing the right one, he noticed that Anakin was just staring at him quizzically. Obi-Wan paused and looked up at the boy. "The katas are done without boots on," he explained. Anakin nodded, seeming to understand, so Obi-Wan finished removing his right boot and sock. He moved onto the other foot, hoping Anakin would take the hint and follow suit. Much to the young man's relief, the boy took a seat next to him and began removing his boots.  
  
Once they were both properly attired, Obi-Wan walked to the center of the room. Anakin stood across from him, finally able to listen intently. This made Obi-Wan feel a little better about the training situation. Now that he did have his padawan's attention, however, he felt a little awkward. He cleared his throat before beginning. "The first kata you will be learning is the same one all Jedi learn when they begin their combat training. It contains some basic but important steps which will be used in later katas as well."  
  
"Master," Anakin interrupted meekly. "Yes?" Obi-Wan asked, trying not to let himself get too annoyed at being interrupted.  
  
"Well I was just wondering," Anakin hesitated, "what exactly is a kata?"  
  
"Oh." Obi-Wan hadn't realised that Anakin would be unfamiliar with the training terminology commonly used by the Jedi. "A kata is a series of movements which teach different techniques useful in hand to hand combat." He knew it was a poor description, but couldn't think of another way to put it. Seeing that Anakin still looked confused, he decided on another approach. "Let me demonstrate the kata you'll be learning first."  
  
Obi-Wan took a few steps backwards so as to allow himself room to perform the exercise. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, then exhaled as he moved his hands to the crossed, ready position at belt-level. It had been so long since he had performed this kata, or really any for hand combat. As soon as he began, however, it came back to him easily. Stepping sharply to the left, he threw a downward block with his left hand, keeping the right one in a guard position at his side. With the next exhalation, he drew back his left hand and with his right delivered a solid shoulder-level blow to an imaginary opponent. The process was mirrored after a turn to the right, then to the front, at three quarters, and at various other angles. At the appropriate time, he switched to high-aimed punches, falling even more easily into the familiar groove as he went. He was careful, however, not to let himself rush the moves. It had always been stressed to him as an initiate not to destroy the rhythm of the movements. After the final punch, Obi-Wan settled back into the position he had begun in, then relaxed.  
  
There was a moment of silence. Anakin's face scrunched up a little in confusion. "I don't get it," he said, "how does that help in a fi- in sparring?"  
  
"Katas help develop the techniques needed for proper sparring methods," Obi- Wan explained, but that didn't seem to help any. Anakin still looked doubtful. Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed his forehead, desperately searching for another way to explain the concept to his padawan. "This kata particularly focuses on simple punches and blocks. This way you can practice doing them right before you actually have to use them in a sparring match."  
  
"Or a fight someday?"  
  
This time Obi-Wan closed his eyes as he sighed. "Someday a long time from now when you're faced with the unlikely situation of being without your lightsabre."  
  
"Or when you don't want to hurt someone too badly?"  
  
"On the contrary," Obi-Wan corrected, "some of these katas contain moves which, if used in the right way, can be very dangerous and even lethal."  
  
"Have you ever had to use them in a fight?"  
  
"Occasionally, though very rarely," Obi-Wan replied, adding, "but they've always been extremely effective in at least disabling the opponent. Besides, they help build technique and coordination for other disciplines in the future, such as lightsabre combat, though there's a whole other set of katas for that." Anakin seemed to be listening attentively and with interest, so Obi-Wan decided to continue. "But these methods alone are not enough to make a Jedi a successful combatant. There are exercises to increase your strength, speed, endurance, and focus on the Force. All of these things are essential to successful combat."  
  
"I want to get really good at it, so I guess I have to start somewhere," Anakin said, though he still sounded a little reluctant about it.  
  
"Precisely. Now, come stand beside me." The boy did as he was instructed. "Try and copy what I do. This is the ready position." Anakin tried to mimic Obi-Wan's stance. "Good," Obi-Wan said, "only make sure your muscles are relaxed, but keep your back straight."  
  
"Like this?" Anakin asked, adjusting his poster.  
  
"Yes," Obi-Wan replied. "Now the first block. Make sure to exhale each time you do a move." He demonstrated, then stood back as Anakin attempted to copy the motions. The boy performed the block rather dramatically, letting out a comical huff of air as he did. "Just breath quietly as you do it, to help keep you from getting exhausted. And don't try to make it look impressive. Katas often look quite boring."  
  
"Okay, I won't," Anakin promised. He did the move again, this time more appropriately. It wasn't perfect, but the important thing was that he learned the moves first. Polishing could be done later.  
  
"Right, now the punch," Obi-Wan struck out solidly again at the spectre of an opponent. Anakin copied the move, then looked expectantly to his master. "No, no," Obi-Wan said, "you have to flex your arm muscles when you make the strike, otherwise you'll hyperextend your elbows. And make sure to keep your feet flat on the floor. It's always important to have good balance. Try again." The boy tried again, but it still wasn't right. "The instant after you strike, you have to relax your muscles, though, so you'll be ready for the next move."  
  
Anakin tried the move yet again. "Was that better?" he asked hesitantly.  
  
"Hmm," Obi-Wan mused as he scratched his chin and studied the boy's stance. It still seemed a little unnatural. He realised it was because the boy's breathing was a little off-kilter. The boy was nervous. "First try to relax." Then a thought occurred to Obi-Wan, and he wondered why it had not sooner. "Focus on the Force. Feel its presence around you. That will help you to focus on your task and to push other things out of your mind."  
  
Anakin took a few deep breaths, then looked at Obi-Wan nervously. "How do I focus on the Force, Master?" he asked.  
  
Obi-Wan was a little surprised at the question. He knew that Anakin was already using the Force when flying, and had assumed the boy was conscious of this. It was something Obi-Wan was so used to doing that he suddenly found it impossible to describe to someone else. "You can put your arms down," he said, and Anakin relaxed. "To focus on the Force you have to... reach out with your mind. Try and get a feel of your surroundings instead of just looking at them. You just have to... use the Force," Obi-Wan cringed at his own pathetic explanation, but had no idea how else to say it.  
  
The following moment of awkward silence was broken by a loud growling sound from Anakin's stomach. The boy quickly rubbed at the spot, and reddened with chagrin. "I'm sorry, I'm kind of hungry since we didn't eat much for breakfast. But I can try to...reach out if you want."  
  
Obi-Wan didn't think of himself the type of master to want to end a learning session early; however, now that he thought about it, they had only eaten a slice of bread a piece on their way out the door this morning. Both of them had been tired and had overslept, but neither had wanted to be late for their meeting with Yoda. Besides, the lesson seemed to be going nowhere for the moment. Lunch seemed like a very good idea. "No, we'll save that for later. Let's go eat," Obi-Wan agreed as he headed back over to the bench. The pair quickly put their boots back on. Obi-Wan donned his robe, changed the window back to translucent mode, and led the way out the door.  
  
The training facility seemed to be even more crowded the next day, though Obi-Wan hadn't thought it was possible. There seemed to be an unusually high number of Jedi on leave from missions at the moment. Or perhaps it was always this way. Obi-Wan conceded that he had been coming here less frequently than he probably should lately. He just hadn't seen the point; he was already more skilled with a lightsabre than many Masters, thanks to Qui-Gon's excellent teaching. And kata sparring was more of a practice for real sparring with lightsabres than anything. Hand to hand combat wasn't something Obi-Wan had frequently had to engage in, and when he did it was hardly ever with a skilled opponent. Now that he had to teach the katas to Anakin, he began to remember how tedious it had been to learn them himself. Of course, he would never let his padawan know that.  
  
"We're practicing that kata you started to show me yesterday, right?" Anakin asked as they crossed the room towards their reserved room.  
  
The boy's tone seemed a little disappointed, but Obi-Wan was just glad his apprentice was focused on what they were doing. "We'll be practicing it until you can do it without thinking about it. It's important for what you learn in training to become instinctive."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"So that you can focus on the Force while you're fighting. So you can let it guide you," Obi-Wan replied. It seemed simple enough, but he knew it was easier said than done. He suddenly realised one of the things he would have to teach Anakin about soon would be the living Force. It would be impossible to properly teach him combat skills without it, but Obi-Wan was reluctant to teach something he himself clearly still had trouble with.  
  
He was spared having to suffer any of Anakin's questions on the subject as the boy suddenly started waving to someone nearby. Obi-Wan's momentary relief ended when he saw Ersha and his padawan walking towards them. The young man marvelled at Ersha's uncanny ability to always happen upon him, and wondered if it wasn't as accidental as it seemed.  
  
"Young Master Kenobi," the older Jedi greeted him with a smile. Obi-Wan had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from spitting out some less than appropriate responses. Instead he nodded curtly and locked eyes with Ersha, whose casual expression in response annoyed Obi-Wan even more.  
  
Both padawans watched their masters intently, obviously sensing the tension between them. Ryu was the first to speak, after clearing his throat a little. "Are you here for lightsabre practice, Anakin?"  
  
"I'm learning katas," Anakin replied hesitantly.  
  
"Which we should be starting right away," Obi-Wan added, intending to keep the encounter as brief as possible. He started to walk past Ersha but noticed his reserved room was still occupied by a pair of senior masters engaged in an intent lightsabre bout. Obi-Wan stopped and sighed, turning back towards Anakin and the others. "We'll have to wait," he said.  
  
Ersha glanced at the duelling pair and smiled at the padawans. "It's easy to lose track of time during lightsabre practice," he said.  
  
"It looks like fun," Anakin commented.  
  
"It's hard work," Obi-Wan admonished, "intended to prepare you for dangerous situations, and it should be taken very seriously."  
  
"It's still fun," Ryu assured Anakin. "Besides, when would you have to fight someone else with a lightsabre? All we really use them for on missions is deflecting blast bolts."  
  
"But that's not true," Anakin piped up. "Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had to fight a Sith."  
  
"No way," Ryu replied disbelievingly, "we learned about the Sith in class. There aren't any of them around anymore."  
  
Anakin looked to his master, clearly wanting to be backed up. But an uncomfortable lump had formed in Obi-Wan's throat, rendering him incapable of speech. He had subconsciously refused to address the topic. He would think about it eventually, take time to reflect on all the implications of it. That was what he should do, anyway; but he was wary of the conclusions he might come to when faced with the facts. And this certainly wasn't the company he wanted to discuss the subject in.  
  
"None have been encountered for some time," Ersha corrected, "But in this case, Ryu, Padawan Skywalker is right. Master Kenobi fought and defeated a Sith only a few days ago."  
  
A few days? Obi-Wan thought. Has it really only been a few days? It didn't seem possible. It was a whole other world. Hearing Ersha put it in those terms made him realise just how recently he had been the one with the braid dangling over his shoulder, tagging along after his master.  
  
Ryu's eyebrows shot up, and he exchanged glances with Anakin, who looked proud. "Wow," Ryu remarked in awe. "How'd you do it?"  
  
The moment flashed back into his mind. For some reason, the most vivid part of it was the light spray of blood that had hung in the air for that crystallized moment after Obi-Wan had sliced the Sith in half. He had relinquished the Dark Side, and yet he had still felt satisfaction at brutally killing his enemy. I'd do it again a thousand times. The thought was out before he could check it, and he realised the dark feeling was still lingering inside of him. The uncomfortable lump in Obi-Wan's throat sank to his stomach. It took much effort to retain his stolid exterior. For a moment, his eyes met with Ersha's and he thought he saw a flash of satisfaction cross the Jedi's face. Or was he just imagining it? Obi-Wan quickly turned back to Ryu and quipped, "With my lightsabre."  
  
To Obi-Wan's surprise, Ersha let out a slight chuckle. He eyed the older man curiously. A smile crossed Ersha's solid features. "Indeed, one would expect nothing less from such a skilled swordsman." To the padawans, he added, "Obi-Wan's master was one of the best Jedi in lightsabre combat in the whole temple. You listen to him, Anakin. He has a lot to teach you." The two Jedi Masters glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Obi-Wan could not help but feel like Ersha was challenging him, but he kept his cool.  
  
"Did he use any Dark Side tricks on you?" Ryu asked curiously.  
  
Obi-Wan was about to answer, when Anakin cut in. "Dark Side?" he asked curiously, "What's that?"  
  
Before Obi-Wan could answer the question, Ersha laughed and patted Anakin on the head. "I hardly remember the days when I didn't have to think about such things. You have much to learn, Anakin."  
  
"Obi-Wan will teach me," the boy said confidently.  
  
"I've found that the best way to teach is by example," Ersha said. Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure what he meant by that. If he was still referring to the subject of the Dark Side... "Master Kenobi, perhaps you and I could demonstrate for our padawans the value of learning the katas by giving them a demonstration of kata sparring."  
  
"I haven't sparred without a lightsabre in some time," Obi-Wan replied hesitantly.  
  
"Well, then that makes two of us," Ersha replied. "Well?" he raised a questioning eyebrow.  
  
Obi-Wan stared at Ersha for a moment, then looked to the padawans. Both boys looked very hopeful. He didn't like the idea of being challenged like this, but now he couldn't back down. Besides, though his skills were rusty he was still very good at hand-to-hand combat. "Of course," he replied with a smile.  
  
"Wonderful," Ersha said. "I had a training room reserved..." he turned around and eyed the room to their left. "Ah, it looks like Master Trale and his padawan are just finishing up. Perfect timing."  
  
It took a second for Obi-Wan's mind to register who Master Trale was, and particularly who his padawan was. He held in his breath as he begrudgingly followed Ersha over to the training room, where Trale and Viljo Brandeis were just exiting. Obi-Wan could not avoid seeing the apprehensive look that settled on Brandeis' face as soon as he saw his old friend. Still, Obi- Wan remained expressionless as his fellow Jedi greeted him.  
  
"Obi-Wan Kenobi." Trale's raspy old voice showed a hint of fondness. "You seem to have grown since the last time I saw you." Obi-Wan smiled politely in greeting. "Hmm, perhaps I've just shrunk. That happens, you know," Trale scratched his ashen beard. "No, I don't suppose you do know. You will. Before you know it, you'll be a helpless old man like me," he glanced slightly at Viljo, "who can still beat his young padawan in a sabre fight." The old man winked mischievously.  
  
"I still have a lot to learn," Brandeis said humbly.  
  
"If there's one thing I have learned it's that I'm always learning. I've learned more by being a teacher than I did when I was a student," Trale remarked, sending a meaningful look in Obi-Wan's direction.  
  
"Indeed," Ersha said, "but there's still teaching to do as well." He motioned towards the now-empty training room.  
  
There was a beat. Obi-Wan eyed Ersha for a moment, then led the way into the room. Both men began to silently remove their robes and boots. They set them on the bench and headed to opposite sides of the room. Obi-Wan flexed his muscles then exhaled deeply as he attempted to center himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that several other Jedi had stopped to watch the bout as well. It made him a little apprehensive. Ersha, however, glanced out at the crowd and smiled.  
  
"Don't think I'm going to go easy on you, young Master Kenobi," the older Jedi said glibly.  
  
If the comment was meant to ease the tension between them, it had failed miserably. It only made Obi-Wan's fists clench involuntarily in anger. He locked his jaw and said nothing in response; instead, he eyed his opponent carefully and sized him up. Ersha was taller with a much stronger build, but Obi-Wan was almost definitely faster. The flippant manner in which Ersha casually glanced over him sparked Obi-Wan's ire. Not to mention that self-satisfied grin of his. Obi-Wan knew the type all too well, the strong, confident type who never really considered him as a serious opponent. He wasn't about to lose to someone like that.  
  
The two Jedi bowed ceremoniously to one another, then settled back into their ready stances. Obi-Wan focused in on Ersha and shut out everything else. Matches like this were usually over extremely quickly; it was necessary to be prepared for anything. Thinking about anything- the moves, the onlookers- would only distract him. He pushed them all aside and took another deep breath, focusing until the only thing he could see or feel was his opponent. And the only thing he was thinking about was winning. His nerves tensed to their most alert and everything seemed to slow as his mind concentrated on the living Force flowing around them.  
  
Obi-Wan waited patiently for Ersha to make the first move. In actuality it probably took only a split second, but it seemed like a long wait before the older Jedi lashed out with a kick aimed at Obi-Wan's head. Ersha seemed to move laughably sluggishly, and Obi-Wan easily spun away from it. The moves came back to him instinctively. With a light push off the ground, he sprung himself around and aimed a kick of his own at Ersha's neck. The tall Jedi sensed the danger just in time to duck Obi-Wan's foot. Now they were both back where they had started.  
  
This time, Obi-Wan struck immediately and swiftly. His right arm rocketed towards Ersha's chest. Where he had expected to hit a torso, his fist met with empty air instead. Ersha had quickly sidestepped the blow, and before Obi-Wan had a chance to pull back, the older man had grabbed his outstretched wrist. Immediately, Obi-Wan was jerked to the side. He cursed himself for having lost track of Ersha for even a moment, and put all his strength into pulling away. But Ersha was too strong and his grip too tight. With a quick circular motion of his arms, he flipped Obi-Wan onto the mat. The young man landed on his back with a resounding thud.  
  
The air rushed out of Obi-Wan's lungs, but he determinedly hung onto his focus. He was not about to let himself be beat this easily. It would only make him seem weak and unprepared to be a Jedi Master; too unprepared and too young. He could imagine the satisfied grin on Ersha's face already. A flash of indignation surged through Obi-Wan. In an moment of extreme clarity, he saw his opportunity. Ersha had held onto his wrist for a moment too long. He snatched Ersha's forearms with both hands and with a sharp yank tossed him downward. Ersha landed on the mat at Obi-Wan's feet. The young man was on him in a flash, his fingers wrapped tightly around the thick neck.  
  
All Obi-Wan had to do to win was poise for a mock death-blow. But all his knowledge of the rules seemed to slip away as he stared down at Ersha's reddening face. The older man clawed at Obi-Wan's fingers, but they were clamped down impossibly tight. Ersha's teeth ground together in a grimace of pain. Obi-Wan felt a moment of dark satisfaction at seeing the confident grin wiped from the Jedi Master's face.  
  
As soon as the thought was out, he recoiled from it. Suddenly, Obi-Wan's grip loosened and his intense expression faded. What was he doing? His stomach churned as he felt the dark tendrils of anger once again at the edge of his conscience. He struggled to push the feeling away.  
  
Ersha seized the opportunity. In one move, he kicked both legs up and wrapped them around Obi-Wan's arms. Obi-Wan was helpless against the sudden burst of Force-enhanced strength, and soon found himself back on his back with Ersha's legs lying heavily across his chest. He tried to free even one of his arms from the tight grip, but it proved futile. In an instant, Ersha's entire weight was on Obi-Wan's arms which were pinned against his chest. Obi-Wan watched helplessly as Ersha's right arm drew back and then chopped down at his exposed neck with lightning speed. The older man's hand stopped within a finger's width of hitting Obi-Wan. Had he not stopped, he could have landed a blow so hard it would have ruptured the arteries in the young man's neck, killing him within seconds- the death blow.  
  
For a moment, Obi-Wan and Ersha simply stared into each other's faces. Red marks circled Ersha's neck and beads of sweat were dripping down his cheeks. Obi-Wan was still so shocked at what he had done that it took him a moment to realise what had just happened. He had lost. When the reality of it sank in, his muscles slacked in defeat, and his eyes drifted to the ceiling. Ersha rolled off of him, allowing him to take in a deep breath. For a few seconds, he just stared at the blank surface above him. All of that focus on the living Force, all of the quick thinking, and he had still lost.  
  
Ersha's face moved into his field of vision, causing Obi-Wan's stomach to clench. Almost immediately, he forced himself to relinquish any anger he had at the older Jedi. That was the last thing he wanted to feel, now. After a moment of studying the young man, Ersha offered him his hand and helped him up off the mat. Once upright, Obi-Wan forced himself to look up and meet the Jedi Master's gaze. Whatever he had to say, Obi-Wan could take it. He swallowed hard and waited for Ersha to throw a haughty remark at him. Instead, the Jedi studied him for a moment, then turned around and walked over to the bench. Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan saw the concerned faces of the on looking Jedi. He pretended not to see them and strode quietly to the bench to collect his things. Alongside him, Ersha remained silent, too. It was clear that the older man's point had been made. There were no stinging comments necessary, no triumphant smiles. The solemn silence said everything.  
  
Obi-Wan sat in silence at his desk, his elbows leaning on the chrome surface, head in his hands. After their awkward training session, Anakin had gone to one of Yoda's classes, leaving Obi-Wan to reflect in solitude. He had always liked having time to himself, to enjoy the simple beauty of a peaceful stillness. This time, however, he felt something he had not usually felt before in these moments- he was afraid. It wasn't the kind of fear he had sometimes experienced on missions. That fear always dissolved once he was calm and could remind himself that he could face any enemy with the help of the Force. Or so he had thought. But he had never imagined he would become his own enemy. It was the dark compulsions within him that he had to fight, but how was he supposed to fight something he couldn't even control? There had to be a way, but Obi-Wan didn't know what it was. He was sure Qui-Gon would have known.  
  
The thought had popped into his head involuntarily. Immediately, he struggled to repress it. There was no point in wishful thinking, he knew that. Yet knowing that Qui-Gon was all around him, one with the Force, but completely unable to offer him any advise only made Obi-Wan feel more helpless and alone. He hadn't realised just how much he relied on Qui-Gon until he was gone. In every decision he had ever made, Qui-Gon had been there to back him up and catch him if he fell. Obi-Wan had felt sure he was ready to be a knight right up until the moment when he instantly became one. He wanted to believe he was ready, that Qui-Gon had felt he was ready, but every trial he had encountered since then he seemed to have failed. He wanted respect from the other Masters, but humiliated himself instead. Most noticeably, he had failed miserably as a teacher thus far. It didn't make sense to him. He was hardworking, skilled, and according to many, wise. Why wasn't that enough?  
  
If only it were that simple, he thought woefully. If only anything were that simple. But nothing was anymore. He had accepted so many sudden changes, taking them in stride, expecting everything to fall in place. Or maybe he had only half-expected it. After all, there had been those nagging doubts in the back of his mind all along, but he had pushed them away. And all the while, he sensed a tide of dark power welling within himself, threatening to rupture the floodgates and wash away any good within him. That frightened him more than anything. It terrified him. If he couldn't even control himself, how was he supposed to teach Anakin the kind of strict restraint and discipline required to become a good Jedi?  
  
Obi-Wan's thoughts were becoming so convoluted and blurred that even he couldn't interpret them anymore. It was simply too much. It didn't help that he was growing more and more tired with each passing minute. He rubbed his temples rigorously and sat up straight in his chair. He might not be certain about anything else, but the one thing he was certain of was that this kind of thinking was only going to drive him mad. What he needed was a distraction, something to take his mind off everything else. He sat for a moment trying to think of something, but came up blank. On a whim, he opened the top drawer of his desk and looked inside. His eyes scanned the melange of items, then suddenly stopped on a long grey box in the back corner. Reaching in, Obi-Wan pulled out the container, set it atop the desk, and closed the drawer.  
  
Undoing the latch, Obi-Wan opened the box and examined its contents: several cylindrical tubes, circuits, small tools, and two small, transparent crystals. To most people, it would probably look like a useless assortment of junk, but any Jedi could tell they were the components for making a lightsabre. Obi-Wan took out a few components and spread them on the desk. With a little more care, he picked up the crystals and held them in the palm of his hand. They were both roughly the same size and hardness. He had found them in a cave on a mission to Dantooine nearly a decade ago. He had kept them even though he didn't expect to ever have to make a new lightsabre. Now his preparedness had paid off, but regretfully so. It was no small thing for a Jedi to lose his lightsabre. As a padawan, Obi-Wan had taken utmost care of the sacred weapon, and though occasional repairs had been necessary, he was very happy that he had never had to replace his lightsabre before. He was hit by a twinge of sadness at the thought. The old must go sometime, he admitted to himself reluctantly. After studying the two crystals he chose the lighter coloured of the two, put the other back, and set to work.  
  
Obi-Wan had never been an exceptionally skilled mechanic, but he was competent. However, having only constructed one lightsabre before in his life, he had some difficulty remembering the plans. The outer casing was unique to each Jedi and thus free to interpretation, but it was the inside that Obi-Wan was concerned about. He didn't want to complete the time- consuming task only to find out his lightsabre didn't work. He stared at a tiny rectangular strut and then at the more square-looking slot he had been considering attaching it into. Maybe he was just seeing it a little wrong and they did match. His vision did seem a little blurred from the fatigue. Grasping a small welding tool in his right hand, he leaned in close and eyed his work carefully as he slowly positioned the tiny pieces. Just as he turned on the welding device, Obi-Wan was distracted by what he thought was a noise coming from the other room. The distraction was immediately forgotten, however, as a sharp burst of electricity pulsed through his hand. Dropping the tools, Obi-Wan jerked his hand back and swore loudly.  
  
Anakin stood in the doorway to Obi-Wan's room, a surprised expression on his face. Obi-Wan's eyes turned panicky as he realised what he had said in front of the boy. For a second he was frozen, not knowing what to say. Anakin's look of surprise gave way to an amused smile. "Don't worry," the boy said lightly, "I heard a lot worse back in Mos Espa."  
  
Still, Obi-Wan felt a little embarrassed by the outburst. A sharp searing pain in his left hand quickly made him forget about his chagrin. He looked down to see a large, fiery welt forming across his left palm. Seeing it only made it hurt more. It would be easy to heal it with the Force, but Obi- Wan felt uneasy about trying to tap into it now, worried about what power he might find. He opted for the old fashioned way instead, quickly heading for the refresher and sticking his injured hand under the faucet. Water began automatically flowing over the burn, eliciting a hiss of pain from the Jedi. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself not to think about it and let the water continue to run.  
  
"I didn't mean to surprise you. I'm sorry you hurt yourself," Anakin said as he stood in the doorway, shifting nervously as he watched Obi-Wan tending to his injury.  
  
Obi-Wan pulled his hand out from under the water and gently blotted it dry with a towel. "It's all right," he said, still gazing down, examining the welt. It went diagonally all the way across the palm and was a thumb's width wide. He had a feeling it would take a while to heal. Sighing, he opened the cabinet above the sink and pulled out a tube of bacta gel. As he gently applied the cool substance to his wound, he noticed Anakin still standing in the doorway, now staring shamefaced at the floor. "I'm not angry with you," he insisted as he reached for the gauze.  
  
"I know," Anakin said, raising his eyes, but only sounding half-convinced to Obi-Wan. "What were you working on?"  
  
"Constructing a new lightsabre," the young man replied as he finished wrapping up his hand.  
  
Immediately, Anakin's mood brightened, his expression perking up. "Jedi make their own lightsabres?" he asked in hopeful astonishment. Obi-Wan nodded without turning back towards the boy as he put away the gauze and gel. "Can I see?"  
  
Obi-Wan hesitated a moment. A lightsabre was something very important and personal to a Jedi, and he certainly didn't want Anakin tinkering with it. When he glanced over and saw the look on the boy's face, however, he thought twice about it. "Of course," he said finally, adding as gently as he knew how, "if you're careful."  
  
"Don't worry, I will be," Anakin said with a smile as he disappeared into Obi-Wan's room.  
  
The young Jedi closed the cabinet doors and started to follow the boy when he caught his reflection in the mirrors on the doors and stopped. His eyes looked uncharacteristically bleary. He conceded that he hadn't been sleeping very well the last few nights. Even when he felt very tired and ready for bed, he found himself mulling over his thoughts and keeping himself awake. Being tired had always made him more irritable. Still, it was no excuse for how he had acted towards Ersha. But his eyes were hardly comparable to the seething yellow hatred he had seen in the Sith's. The real question, though, was if they were capable of becoming that. He didn't want to believe they were, but didn't feel so certain anymore.  
  
When he broke the locked gaze he had been holding with his reflection, Obi- Wan noticed that his entire appearance looked haggard. What stood out the most, though, was the stubble forming along his jaw line. He hadn't shaved in a few days, but hadn't realised until now how scruffy his face was getting. I must remind myself to shave soon, was his initial thought; but then he reconsidered. As a padawan, he hadn't been allowed to grow any facial hair and had never really had a desire to. Perhaps he should try it. He stared at his reflection and tried to imagine himself with a beard. It was a little difficult, but he didn't think it would look so bad. At least once his hair grew out. On an impulse, he splashed some water on his head with his good hand in an attempt to subdue the unruly spikes. Obi-Wan re- examined the image. Not perfect, but at least he didn't look so much like a fresh-faced young padawan.  
  
Flicking off the lights, Obi-Wan headed back into his room. Anakin was sitting in his chair, carefully examining the lightsabre components carefully. When Obi-Wan entered, the boy looked up. "You were trying to attach this piece to the wrong spot," Anakin said, pointing to the small strut. "It actually goes over here, I think."  
  
"Ah, I thought perhaps that was wrong," Obi-Wan conceded. "But I don't think I'll be able to work on it now for a while." He indicated his injured hand.  
  
A thought seemed to occur to Anakin. "I could put it together for you," he suggested.  
  
Obi-Wan's reaction was knee-jerk. "No," he replied tersely. Anakin looked surprised and a little stung at the sharp tone. Taking a breath, Obi-Wan explained more calmly, "Construction of a lightsabre is something a Jedi is supposed to accomplish on his own."  
  
"Oh," Anakin replied, setting the pieces back on the table. "Sorry, I didn't know."  
  
"I know," Obi-Wan replied. "A lightsabre is a weapon unique to the Jedi, a very powerful and dangerous item that must be respected and cared for. It's not simply a weapon to a Jedi, it's a symbol of everything the Jedi represent."  
  
Anakin had been listening intently, but he still looked a little perplexed. "I guess I don't really understand," the boy said, "but I'm sure I will." He looked from Obi-Wan to the pile of parts on the desk and then back again. "I used to make lots of things for me and my mom. I didn't know Jedi made things, though."  
  
"Well, Jedi do a lot of things," Obi-Wan replied as he turned and headed into the sitting room.  
  
"I was wondering about that," Anakin began, following after Obi-Wan, "when you're not training or on a mission, what do you do?"  
  
"There are many kinds of training. Meditation is very important, and there are always things to study in preparation for missions," Obi-Wan replied, not quite sure what Anakin meant.  
  
"Yeah but what do you do for fun?"  
  
"For fun?" Obi-Wan shrugged. "Well I like to read sometimes."  
  
"I can read," Anakin replied immediately, seemingly happy for any sort of connection. "In Basic and Huttese. But there aren't really many good books in Huttese." His mouth curled into a slight wry smile.  
  
"I imagine not," Obi-Wan replied.  
  
"I knew being a Jedi would be different," Anakin began as he idly picked at the seems of the couch. "But I didn't know I'd miss everyone at home so much," he admitted.  
  
Obi-Wan was a little surprised at the boy's forwardness. He had suspected that Anakin was still feeling this way but had had no idea how to breach the subject. Now that he had the opportunity, he wasn't quite sure what to say. "It's normal to miss people who aren't with us anymore," he said slowly. For a second, the boy's eyes met with his and seemed to register a kind of knowing sympathy. Obi-Wan looked away slowly. "But we have to learn to continue regardless." He braced himself, fully expecting the boy to bring up the topic of his mother, or worse, Qui-Gon, again. So he was surprised at what Anakin said next.  
  
"Do you think I'll see Padmé again?" the boy asked, his eyes filled with earnestly.  
  
Obi-Wan studied Anakin curiously for a moment. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. He hadn't even considered it. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"She's my friend," Anakin said plainly.  
  
"Ah," Obi-Wan scratched his stubbly chin thoughtfully. He wasn't so sure that's how he would define the relationship. Anakin had been a great help to the Queen and Obi-Wan was sure she was grateful, but that wasn't generally what one would define as friendship. "We meet a lot of people on missions," he explained, "some of them we see again and some we don't. That's just the nature of being a Jedi."  
  
"Oh," Anakin said, downcast.  
  
Obi-Wan found the silence that followed to be unbearable. As much as he usually liked quiet, he didn't seem to be finding the usual peace in it lately. "Are you hungry?" he suggested quickly. It had been meant as a distraction, but once he brought up the topic he found that he himself could use something to eat. Anakin simply shrugged. "The evening meal should be starting soon," Obi-Wan said. It was more of a command than a statement. He started towards the door, and Anakin followed a few seconds later.  
  
As they headed towards the dining hall, Obi-Wan took a moment to contemplate Anakin's odd comments about the Queen of Naboo. It seemed a little unusual and unfortunate that the boy should have become so attached to someone in such a short time. Then again, Obi-Wan had seen how close to Qui-Gon Anakin had become. He supposed it only was only a small part of the large changes happening in the boy's life as of late. Quite frankly, Obi- Wan had more troubling things to worry about at the moment.  
  
Obi-Wan watched as Anakin loaded up his tray with food. The boy was clearly hungrier than he'd let on, and now Obi-Wan felt a little guilty for not having asked him if he was earlier. He had filled his own plate with generous portions, but was not as intent on his food as Anakin was. He was too preoccupied trying to get a good look at the table to see who was there, but from his vantage point, he couldn't tell. If Ersha were there, he had no idea what he was going to say. It was reasonable to assume his appetite would be considerably lessened, though. Realistically, it didn't matter. Obi-Wan was sure that everyone who had not witnessed the incident for themselves would soon have heard about it. It was only a matter of time before someone said something, and he had no idea how he would respond. There was nothing he could say in his defense, and he was trying to put off confronting the issue as long as possible.  
  
A heavy weight was lifted from Obi-Wan's shoulders when he saw that Ersha was not at the table. In fact, the only people Obi-Wan recognized were Master Tyra and her apprentice. They hadn't been in the training center this afternoon, and judging from the friendly smile on Master Tyra's face, she probably hadn't heard about it. Frankly, Obi-Wan didn't want to talk about it, either. He knew he shouldn't ignore the incident, and had no plans to; but right now, all he wanted to do was eat. He relaxed a little as he sat down at the table across from the dark-skinned woman.  
  
Anakin plopped into the chair next to Obi-Wan and across from Lena. "You must be hungry," the twi'lek girl commented. With a mouthful of food, the only reply Anakin could offer was a nod.  
  
"Growing boys certainly need their food," Master Tyra said with a smile.  
  
"So do girls," Lena added, cutting her food up into delicate bites, "but we don't inhale it."  
  
Anakin paused for a moment, then resumed eating, this time more slowly. Obi- Wan exchanged grins with Master Tyra. Her focus remained on him as he took a drink of water.  
  
"What happened to your hand?" she asked politely, indicating the bandage.  
  
He glanced down at it and swallowed before replying. "An unfortunate exercise in mechanical ineptitude," he said, eliciting a smile from Begura.  
  
"He was making a lightsabre," Anakin put in once he had swallowed a large bite of meat.  
  
Lena's eyes lit up. "I've been using the training sabres to practice and Master Tyra says I might be able to make one soon."  
  
"That's nice," Anakin said, but with only a half-hearted smile. "I can't wait until I start my lightsabre training." He glanced up at Obi-Wan, who already had a pretty good idea of where this conversation was headed and was determined to end it before it began.  
  
"Patience," Obi-Wan said firmly. "A Jedi's life is about much more than being able to fight of his enemies."  
  
"Then why do we practice fighting?" the boy asked.  
  
"We practice how to defend ourselves, should a situation come to that. But we are meant to be mediators, investigators in some cases, not warriors."  
  
Anakin looked a little confused. "I always heard Jedi were all great warriors. Why else would people be so afraid of them?"  
  
Obi-Wan gave Anakin a very hard look. "If someone fears a Jedi, that is unfortunate. It should never be the goal of a Jedi to inspire fear." Even as the words came out, he could sense that they weren't having the proper impact on the boy. What do you expect, he thought, after the demonstration you gave him today. As much as he had tried not to, Obi-Wan found himself thinking this all would have been so much easier if Qui-Gon had lived to train the boy. As it was, Obi-Wan had left Anakin pondering quietly, no doubt preparing another question Obi-Wan would not be able to properly answer.  
  
In an act of mercy, Master Tyra spoke up before Anakin could. "Lena, why don't you and Anakin go see what kind of dessert there is today."  
  
Lena glanced sceptically at Anakin's now-empty plate. "I don't think he needs any more to eat."  
  
"Lena," Begura intoned a little more insistently, "please."  
  
Understanding the seriousness in her master's request, Lena slowly got up from the table. "All right. Come on, Anakin, I'll show you where they are."  
  
"Okay," the boy replied enthusiastically, seeming to forget completely about the conversation he'd been having with his master. In spite of the momentary relief he felt as the padawans dashed away, Obi-Wan couldn't help but worry about the topic coming up again soon.  
  
"Anakin's a very special boy," Master Tyra remarked.  
  
Obi-Wan tapped his plate with his fork for a moment, considering a reply. His first instinct was to ask outright what it was she wanted to lecture him on, since she had obviously sent the padawans away for a reason. He barely stopped the harsh words from escaping his lips. Why had he even thought them? Fighting back the thoughts, he managed to reply. "He has a great deal of potential."  
  
Begura smiled perhaps a little sadly, which Obi-Wan wondered at. She spoke slowly and carefully. "Is he only potential?" she asked. When Obi-Wan only responded with a questioning look, she went on. "You mustn't only see this as a task you've been given."  
  
"But it is a tremendous task," Obi-Wan replied, shaking his head. "To be given the responsibility of training someone as talented as Anakin, to have to commit years of your life to that, is not a duty to be taken lightly."  
  
"Do you think that's what being a master is?" she asked in a kind but corrective tone.  
  
Obi-Wan lifted his hands in a shrug then dropped them heavily onto the table with a sigh. "I don't know. All I know is that I've made commitments to people that I don't intend to break, but at the same time I'm beginning to feel the scope of what I've agreed to."  
  
"Do you think you were only a responsibility to Qui-Gon?"  
  
The words hit Obi-Wan like a blow to the chest. The topic was still too recent, the wound still fresh. But while part of him felt it wasn't a fair comparison to bring up, the greater part of him understood Master Tyra's point. "I suppose not," he replied quietly.  
  
"Of course you weren't," Begura corrected emphatically, "because having an apprentice does not just mean having a responsibility. It is also about having a relationship of mutual respect and willingness to learn." She sighed softly, then spoke more calmly. "My first padawan was knighted half a year ago. She had been my apprentice for thirteen years, and I treasure each moment of it. I learned so much and it was such a privilege to be able to pass on some of what I knew to her."  
  
"Thirteen years is quite a long time," Obi-Wan said. Impossibly long, he thought. It would likely take longer than that, too. After all, Anakin hadn't had the advantage of eight or so years of Jedi training that most of his agemates had. Then again, he had an immense amount of talent as well. He had already shown that. Still, in thirteen years Anakin would only be 22, and it would be surprising if such a late starter were to be knighted that early. I'll be 38, he thought suddenly. Nearly 40. It seemed unfathomable.  
  
"I know it seems like a long time to you," Begura replied, "but believe me, it will all be over in an instant. You'll be regretting the things you didn't do more than the ones you did," she said knowingly. "I never even thought I wanted to take a padawan until I met Kaara. She was so different from me, and yet the perfect person to be my apprentice in spite of it. Or perhaps because of it."  
  
Obi-Wan rubbed his forehead, glanced at Begura, then away. "I appreciate your advice, Master Tyra, but will all due respect, my situation is much different than yours." His eyes drifted back to hers. "Anakin is not simply another padawan."  
  
For a moment, Begura simply studied Obi-Wan's serious features. Then she smiled, as though she understood something he did not. He waited for her to say whatever it was that had occurred to her. Instead, she replied softly, "Master Kenobi, no one is simply anything."  
  
Before Obi-Wan had much time to consider the cryptic comment, Anakin plopped down heavily next to him. "This is really good," the boy said as he took a bite of a small, fruit-filled pastry. As he did, some of the filling got on his cheek. Lena giggled and Anakin gave her a quizzical look. "What?" he asked curiously after swallowing. Master Tyra smiled and pointed politely to the red smear. "Oh," he said, reaching for a napkin from the center of the table and whipping off the blotch. "Whoops." He turned and offered the pastry to Obi-Wan. "You want some?"  
  
"No thank you," the young man replied evenly.  
  
Lena twirled a thin headtail around her finger and stared up at Begura imploringly. "Um, Master Tyra..." she began.  
  
"What is it that you want, Lena?" the woman asked keenly.  
  
"Well I was just thinking," Lena began slowly, "We don't have any more classes tonight and I thought maybe we could go swimming. Anakin hasn't seen the natatorium here yet. It's important to practice swimming, to keep strong." She added the last part in quickly.  
  
Master Tyra smiled knowingly. "And I'm sure it wouldn't be any fun, either," she said.  
  
"Well, that too," Lena said, a grin spreading across her small face to match the one on her master's.  
  
"I think it's a good idea." Begura turned to Obi-Wan. "Would that be all right with you?"  
  
Obi-Wan had planned on spending some time meditating this evening, attempting to confront the latent anger that had been troubling him so much. But he wasn't sure if he could really obtain the necessary peace and quiet with Anakin in the apartment anyway. He finally shrugged in surrender. "Of course," he said, turning a forced smile to Anakin. To his surprise, the boy didn't seem as excited as Obi-Wan would have thought. Nevertheless, he smiled back.  
  
"Then we'll see you both at the natatorium in a few minutes," Master Tyra said with a nod as she and Lena got up. After a moment, Obi-Wan and Anakin followed. After repositing their trays, they headed alone down the hallway back to their apartment to change.  
  
Though he hadn't been too keen on the idea at first, Obi-Wan had decided that perhaps an evening spent swimming was just the sort of thing he needed. It wasn't quite meditation, but at least it might relax him somewhat. He had always enjoyed swimming. Even if it just helped to put his mind at ease for a while, it would be a welcome reprieve. It had been such a long day and there were so many things on his mind. Obi-Wan made a concerted effort to push those thoughts away as he and Anakin made their way to the natatorium.  
  
"I think this is too small," Anakin said, looking down at the tan sleeveless top of his swim uniform. Obi-Wan simply hummed in response, not really paying attention. Anakin continued, heedless of being ignored, "These shorts are too tight." He stopped walking to tug at the edges of the slick black material just above his knees.  
  
Obi-Wan could feel that nagging sense of ire creeping back into his mood. He wondered if he'd ever truly have a quiet moment to himself anymore. But he knew a great part of the responsibility of being a master was answering questions and explaining things. Of course, he would do that, but right now he just wished he could take Anakin somewhere in the Temple without being subjected to an interrogation. Sighing, Obi-Wan glanced back over his shoulder at the boy. "The uniforms are tight so they won't slow you down in the water. We all wear them for this type of training," he said as he turned around and continued walking, hoping to send Anakin the message that he should follow.  
  
A few moments passed, then, much to Obi-Wan's relief, he heard the sound of small bare feet slapping on the stone floor as the boy rushed to catch up. Unfortunately, Anakin had not been entirely satisfied by his master's answers. "But what if you're on a mission and you have to swim? You won't have these uniforms then," Anakin pointed out.  
  
"No," Obi-Wan replied, "You won't. Which is why you'll also have to practice swimming fully clothed in the garden pond."  
  
"There's a garden here?" the boy asked with heightened curiosity. "Can we see it?"  
  
"Sometime," Obi-Wan said tightly, trying not to let his weariness show through. It wasn't that he didn't expect Anakin to ask questions, but Obi- Wan felt mentally exhausted by all the things he'd gone through today. All the contemplation he'd done at the evening meal about just how long he would be training Anakin hadn't helped his outlook on the situation. He recalled what Master Tyra said about it going by quickly, but that seemed very unlikely. The last few days alone were beginning to feel like a lifetime.  
  
When they reached the natatorium, Lena and Master Tyra were already there. Tyra smiled at Obi-Wan, who nodded, returning the greeting. When Lena spotted Anakin, she beamed with enthusiasm and ran over to him. "Isn't this place cool?" she gave him a moment to examine the large, high-ceilinged room. Obi-Wan couldn't help but notice Anakin's eyes settling on the pool in a doubtful gaze. Clearly there was something bothering the boy, but Obi- Wan couldn't put his finger on it.  
  
"I know, it's huge!" Lena said with a grin, not seeming to notice the odd hesitance written on Anakin's face. "Come on." Without waiting for a response, she ran to the edge and dove into the deep water.  
  
"Lena, no running!" Master Tyra shouted in vain after her padawan. She shook her head with a sigh, then turned to Obi-Wan. "You can yell all you want, but sometimes they just won't hear," she said wistfully. Nodding at Obi-Wan's bandaged hand, she asked, "Won't that sting?"  
  
"Perhaps a little," he replied nonchalantly.  
  
A chuckle escaped from the older Jedi. Obi-Wan gave her a perplexed look, but she was no longer looking at him. Instead, she had turned her attention down to Anakin, who was fidgeting uncomfortably. "Having some trouble getting used to that uniform?" she asked knowingly.  
  
Anakin stopped wiggling. "Kind of," he said with a shrug.  
  
"Boys," Begura replied with an amused smile and a shake of her head. Then she pulled her dark hair back and tied it up. "If you'll excuse me," she said with a nod as she headed for the edge of the water and dove in.  
  
Obi-Wan paused for a moment. He was quite certain Master Tyra had just made fun of him. Not in a mean-spirited way, but in the affable way he used to joke around with Qui-Gon. It was comforting to know someone else appreciated having a sense of humour, but at the same time it made Obi-Wan a little sad. He was sure someone Anakin's age wouldn't understand his wry wit, not the way Qui-Gon used to.  
  
No, he commanded himself, you're here to relax, not to brood. Clearing his mind, Obi-Wan strolled casually to the edge of the water, took a deep breath, and stepped in. As he plunged into the deep pool, he forced himself to relax. For a few moments, he floated there, watching Begura and Lena's feet churning up bubbles a few meters away. With a swift kick, Obi-Wan returned to the surface and glanced up at Anakin, who was still standing on the deck eyeing the water uneasily.  
  
Lena stopped her progress half way to the other end of the pool. Turning around, she called out, "Come on, Anakin, the water's perfect!"  
  
"I'm coming!" the boy reassured her, taking a deep breath to build up his courage.  
  
Not thinking much of the matter, Obi-Wan turned back around, took a deep breath, and dove back under the surface. He had only taken a few strokes when he suddenly felt a sharp sense of panic coursing at him through the Force. Whirling around underwater, he saw Anakin flailing about helplessly in an attempt to return himself to the surface. In a flash, Obi-Wan was struck with realisation: Tatooine was a desert planet. Which meant no swimming facilities of any kind. Without even thinking, Obi-Wan immediately stretched out a hand and tapped into the Force. Relax. He sent the thought in the boy's direction, and immediately Anakin calmed down. Look at me. Anakin's eyes snapped open widely in alarm. Once he was sure he had the boy's attention, Obi-Wan performed a demonstrative stroke with his arms and legs, then looked back down at Anakin. The boy mimicked Obi-Wan's actions, and was soon back at the surface, gasping for air.  
  
Anakin managed to make his way back to the wall, which he gripped tightly with both hands. As Obi-Wan swam over to join him, the boy purposefully slowed his breathing. "I'm sorry," he said, shamefaced.  
  
"It's all right," Obi-Wan said, trying to be gentle, though he was a little upset. It wasn't so much that Anakin hadn't told him about not being able to swim as it was knowing the boy had endangered himself just to avoid embarrassment. Then again, Obi-Wan knew he himself should have realised a boy from a desert planet wouldn't have been able to swim.  
  
"I know I should have said something but...," Anakin trailed off.  
  
"It's all right," Obi-Wan replied. "There was no need to be embarrassed."  
  
"It wasn't just that," Anakin bit his lip and looked down. "It didn't seem like you wanted to answer any more questions, and I didn't want to bother you."  
  
The boy's honest comment caught Obi-Wan off guard. "Ah," he said softly, suddenly feeling guilty. He had tried not to let his irritation show. After all, it wasn't really Anakin's fault that everything was new and interesting to him. Apparently Obi-Wan had failed miserably.  
  
Not knowing what to say, Obi-Wan switched the subject instead. "Stay here for a moment," he said as he pulled himself out of the pool and headed for a metal cabinet attached to the wall. Opening it, he quickly found the item he was looking for and grabbed it. He walked back over to the edge where Anakin was and knelt down, holding out the item in his hand. "Here you are."  
  
Anakin took the small three-pronged item in his hand and stared at it quizzically. "What is it?"  
  
"It's an aquata breather," Obi-Wan replied. "You breathe through this mouthpiece. These cartridges on the sides will provide oxygen for you from the water."  
  
"You can breathe underwater with this?" Anakin asked, studying the small device with interest.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "For up to two hours. Just don't breathe in through your nose. This one belongs to the natatorium, but we can get you one of your own."  
  
Anakin looked from the device up to Obi-Wan. "Thanks," he said with a smile. "Only...I still don't know how to swim."  
  
That is still a problem, Obi-Wan thought. And it was yet another thing he would have to teach the boy, he realised. For the moment, however, he didn't want to cause Anakin any unnecessary embarrassment in front of Lena and Master Tyra. He felt bad enough about being part of the cause for the boy's near-drowning. Looking up, Obi-Wan saw that neither Begura nor Lena seemed to have noticed what had happened with Anakin. Both were still swimming leisurely towards the other wall. "Why don't you just watch me," Obi-Wan suggested.  
  
"It's okay to open your eyes underwater?"  
  
"Of course, though it might itch a little at first," Obi-Wan replied as he slid back into the pool. For a second, it seemed as though Anakin had been reminded of something, but whatever it was, the boy said nothing. Instead he nodded to Obi-Wan, showing his readiness. Pushing off the wall, Obi-Wan slid through the water, this time just below the surface. He took a few long strokes with his arms as he kicked with his feet. Then he paused and turned around underwater to see Anakin watching attentively, the breather securely in his mouth. The boy waved confidently then pushed off the wall and attempted to mimic his master. The style was a bit sloppy, but Anakin managed to stay afloat and get through the water fairly well. He was most certainly a quick learner, at least when it came to physical skills, Obi- Wan mused.  
  
Anakin stopped in front of Obi-Wan and followed his example of treading water to stay afloat. The boy gave his master a look that begged approval. Obi-Wan nodded slightly in response. Anakin turned his attention to the other side of the pool, where Lena had now stopped and was waiting for him. With confidence, the boy ducked back under the water and began swimming towards her.  
  
After watching for a moment, Obi-Wan was satisfied that his padawan was not going to have another panicked incident. His shoulders relaxed in relief. It was only then that he noticed a stinging sensation in his left palm. The sanitation chemicals in the water were causing his wound to burn. Gritting his teeth, he forced the feeling aside. He was determined to actually relax and not be distracted by anything now. Turning on his back, he began slowly gliding through the water. His gaze drifted over the ceiling tiles as he absently traced the patterns with his eyes. With his ears underwater, everything was blissfully quiet for once. Finally, he thought, some peace and solitude.  
  
Obi-Wan's reverie was abruptly cut short as several small hands pushed against his chest, shoving him underwater without warning. He immediately popped back up, sputtering from having swallowed a large mouthful of water. As he spun around, Obi-Wan saw Anakin and Lena quickly retreating back to the wall, giggling loudly. A flash of indignation passed over him, and he shot the two padawans a stern look. For a moment, their laughter subsided. Then Obi-Wan saw Master Tyra on the other side of the pool, still laughing, clearly in on the joke. He looked from her to the children then back. The smallest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips, and the padawans resumed their joyful sound.  
  
The weight of the whole day had come crashing down on Obi-Wan as he and Anakin were walking back to their apartment. It was as though the floodgates had opened the second they had left the natatorium, sending Obi- Wan right back into a torrent of stress and exhaustion. The only saving grace of it was that, as all his energy left him, he was too tired to think, too tired to contemplate the darkness he had been running from all day. His mind was instead set on the singular task of dragging himself into bed and sleeping roughly until Anakin reached knighthood.  
  
His padawan, however, was unfazed by the long day. If anything, the boy seemed energized by his first attempt at swimming and was likely in no mood to go to sleep now. He chattered on about the experience the whole way back, clearly not at all tired. Which was unfortunate, since Obi-Wan would be seeing him straight off to bed as soon as they reached their quarters.  
  
Anakin continued on in his excitement, and Obi-Wan nodded automatically at the boy's comments. By the time they turned down their hallway, the young man was using all his strength to put one foot in front of the other. Almost there, he thought as his eyelids began to sink slowly downward. When he finally reached their door, he stared down at the entry pad, trying to remember the combination. It took a moment, but it came to him, and he slowly typed the numbers in and hit enter. Red letters popped up flashing 'Access Denied'. Sighing, Obi-Wan typed in the numbers again, this time paying close attention and making sure the code was right. It was, but he was still refused entry. Perfect, Obi-Wan thought to himself bitterly. The lock had decided to quit working. Of course this would happen the one time he desperately wanted sleep more than anything. He futilely set about trying over and over, each time with the same result. His patience was quickly wearing thin.  
  
"Master," Anakin said in a timid tone. "Can I try?"  
  
Obi-Wan glanced down at his padawan, who had been waiting and watching quietly. "Of course," he said, stepping back and waving the boy towards the keypad. "Though I do think we're going to have to call a maintenance droid to fix it." He watched in slight puzzlement as Anakin's fingers flew over the pad, typing in a different code than he had been using. After a pause, the door whooshed open. Obi-Wan stared quizzically into the room, then looked down at his padawan.  
  
"I think you had the wrong code," Anakin explained respectfully.  
  
It took Obi-Wan a second to realise why his code hadn't worked. He'd been using the code to the old apartment he had shared with Qui-Gon for so many years. "Oh," Obi-Wan said quietly. The cold feeling suddenly creeping up his spine was only overridden by his immense feeling of fatigue. He was glad he was too tired to think about anything at the moment, because if he had started thinking about that he would never get to sleep. As it was, Obi- Wan switched his focus back to his bed, and started heading for his room.  
  
"Are you going to sleep already?" Anakin asked from behind him.  
  
Turning around, Obi-Wan stared at the boy, knowing his exhaustion must be evident in his face and hoping Anakin would understand. "Yes, and you should too."  
  
For a second, it seemed like the boy was going to inquire as to why he should go to bed when he wasn't tired. But, thank the Force, Anakin managed to hold back whatever arguments he might have. Instead he simply nodded and replied, "All right. Good night, Master."  
  
"Good night, padawan," Obi-Wan said as he turned around and entered his room. The sight of the bed only made him feel his physical and mental weariness more keenly. Had his swim uniform not been wet, Obi-Wan would have simply slept as he was. However, it wouldn't do to sleep in wet clothes all night and get sick. As quickly as possible, he changed into his light sleeping tunic, tossing the swim uniform to a corner of his desk in an uncharacteristically haphazard manner. The desk was still covered in spare lightsabre parts which Obi-Wan normally would have cleaned up promptly before doing anything else. Right now, however, he was in an uncharacteristically caring mood. Instead of worrying about tidiness, or his confrontation with Ersha, or Anakin's near-drowning incident, Obi-Wan collapsed onto his bed. Before he could even think about finding a comfortable position, the young man had drifted off into a black unconsciousness.  
  
The shield sizzled before Obi-Wan's face, tinting his view to the colour of fire. Deep inside of him, an enraged hatred was swelling with every passing moment. His fingers gripped the hilt of his ignited lightsabre as though he were trying to break it. On the other side of the crimson field lay Qui-Gon Jinn, breathing erratically in shock. Obi-Wan could see his Master out of the corner of his eye as he focused on the dark warrior pacing, waiting for him. Qui-Gon's presence fuelled Obi-Wan's hatred, which the young man focused back on the abhorrent enemy who taunted him without saying a word. The Sith was waiting for him, and Obi-Wan was more than ready to be released from his cage. He was ready to unleash the seething deluge he felt rippling through every nerve, the dark power he was drawing on in preparation for destroying his enemy. But it was not enough to destroy him. This man- this creature had taken everything from him. Unaware of the other presence standing silently behind him, Obi-Wan focused every ounce of his being on the Sith, preparing himself to utterly annihilate him.  
  
Then it happened: the shield snapped open and the two men clashed in a flurry of light, two wills pitting their power against one another. The dark Force presence in the room magnified with every exchanged blow. Obi- Wan fed on it, releasing the anguishing pain that had been rammed into his chest the instant Qui-Gon had been run through. It was a pain unlike anything Obi-Wan had ever experienced; it seared his mind and soul rather than his flesh. He knew no way to cure it than to release it as hatred. Obi- Wan chopped away furiously at his opponent, completely unaware of the small figure standing behind the red shield, watching his every move.  
  
In a desperate move, Obi-Wan threw his weight into a powerful over handed strike. His lightsabre blade met with that of the Sith, and he pushed down with all his might, gritting his teeth in anger. He locked his intense gaze with yellow eyes. A toothy smile broke out over the Sith's face. "Your hate," the dark warrior hissed in a satisfied whisper, "has made you powerful, Young Master Kenobi."  
  
Master. The single word was like a tank of ice poured onto a single flame. He was a Jedi Master. Obi-Wan's veins chilled and his grip on the hilt of his sabre loosened. Slowly, his eyes broke away from the Sith and slid to the boy behind him, tensely watching the fight through the crimson veil. His small fists were clenched anxiously at his sides. His eyes had been locked on his master the whole time. Through the Force, Obi-Wan could feel Anakin's hatred swelling.  
  
No!  
  
The vision rushed away as Obi-Wan struggled with all his might to pull himself back to consciousness. He felt himself rocketing away from the twisted memory, and slamming back into reality as if by a hyperspace jump. His eyes flew open but all he saw was the pitch black of the room. After a moment, Obi-Wan realised his breathing was extremely heightened and tried to calm himself. It took a while, but he was soon oriented enough to roll up into a sitting position. He sat staring off into the darkness, trying to flush the images and feelings out of his mind. Running a shaky hand over his unshaved face left a warm streak on his chin. It took Obi-Wan a few seconds to realise that it was blood from his wounded hand.  
  
Taking a few deep breaths and attempting to stabilize himself, Obi-Wan got to his feet and headed for the door. Walking as quietly as possible so as not to wake Anakin, he slipped through the main room and into the fresher, where he flicked the lights on. The brightness made him squint and recoil at first. Once his eyes had adjusted, he saw himself in the mirror, looking more haggard than he had felt before going to sleep and now with a red smear across his chin. Even knowing it was his own blood, simply from a cut, something about the image made Obi-Wan sick. He immediately grabbed a towel and soaked it in cold water, then set about cleaning the stain off his face. He scrubbed for longer than was necessary, then turned his attention down to the injured hand.  
  
The gauze had bled through completely on the palm side. Obi-Wan admonished himself for not having changed the dressing before going to bed. It hadn't been bleeding before, but he knew the burn had formed a blood blister. Had he taken care to put on some more bacta earlier, the swelling and bursting of the blister could have been prevented. But, like everything else that had been on his mind, he had pushed it away in favour of embracing sweet sleep. As it turned out, his escaping was only making everything worse, as evidenced by his now bleeding and burning wound which he saw as he unwrapped the old gauze and threw it in the reciprocal. Obi-Wan sighed and began running cold water over his hand to clean it off. The cold feeling immediately reminded him of the dream, how Anakin had been there, watching, learning.  
  
"Master," a soft voice from the doorway said.  
  
Obi-Wan froze in place. Part of him wondered if he wasn't still somehow in the dream, but he knew this was real. "Yes?" he answered in a parched voice without turning around.  
  
Anakin hesitated, then spoke timidly, "I didn't want to disturb you but then I saw that you were already up."  
  
Obi-Wan stared down at the shiny countertop, idly studying his warped reflection for a few moments. The sound of running water filled the silence. Then, with his good hand, he shut off the faucet and reached for a clean gauze wrapping from the mirrored cabinet. "What is it, Anakin," he said, this time in a stronger voice. Still, he was not yet ready to turn around and face the boy. He was still too shaken from the dream.  
  
"Well," the boy began slowly. Obi-Wan could hear him shifting his weight nervously. "It's nothing really, just that... I had a really bad dream. Like a nightmare."  
  
"Jedi don't have nightmares," Obi-Wan replied stolidly.  
  
"They don't?" Anakin asked, sounding puzzled.  
  
As he finished re-wrapping his hand, Obi-Wan gathered enough confidence to finally turn around and face his padawan. "They have dreams, and vision on occasion," he replied, "but nightmares are a product of fear."  
  
The boy's face crinkled up thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess so," he replied, "and Jedi aren't supposed to be afraid, right?"  
  
"No," Obi-Wan said simply, only wishing it were that simple in practice.  
  
"Master Yoda said he thought I was afraid when the Council was testing me," Anakin continued. "And I didn't think I was but maybe..." he trailed off, but Obi-Wan knew what he was getting at. There could be no doubt that the boy missed his mother and that being put into entirely new surroundings and a new life must have been very difficult. Before Obi-Wan could think of anything to say in reply, though, Anakin asked another question. "Why are you awake?"  
  
"I had to change the dressing for my hand," Obi-Wan replied.  
  
Anakin seemed to catch the half-truth. He looked up at Obi-Wan, almost as if he were looking through him. The knowing stare made the young man uncomfortable, but he could not avoid the true source of the feeling; a Force bond has started to develop between them. He knew what it felt like and before it had always been a comfort to him. But this bond made him very anxious.  
  
"You had the same dream I did," Anakin stated with a simple ease that unsettled his master.  
  
Obi-Wan was hesitant to confirm the boy's assertion, but he could not avoid it. Anakin knew and it would be no good lying to him now. "Yes," Obi-Wan replied finally, fearing the other questions that would follow.  
  
To Obi-Wan's surprise, Anakin did not immediately ask about the meaning of the dream. He seemed to sense that it was a topic too heavy to be broached at such a time. Instead, he asked a different question. "How did we have the same dream?"  
  
Obi-Wan thought about how to answer the question without giving Anakin the wrong impression. A Force bond was different from mind-reading as some laypeople thought it to be. "There's something that forms between a master and padawan. It's a kind of connection through the Force that allows them to easily sense each other's presence, emotions, and actions," he explained.  
  
"Is that why, in the pool earlier, I could hear you talking in my head?" Anakin asked, seeming a little concerned.  
  
"Ah, well I did use the Force to calm you and to send you a message," Obi- Wan replied. He hadn't realised at the time that the boy wasn't accustomed to communication through the Force. "It's something like that."  
  
"Well, I don't think it will be so bad," the boy replied thoughtfully. Then he yawned broadly, though he tried to cover it with one hand.  
  
"You should get back to sleep," Obi-Wan suggested, shutting off the light to enforce the point.  
  
Anakin turned around and began shuffling back towards his room. Obi-Wan watched for a moment to make sure the boy wasn't going to run into anything, then headed for his own door. Just as he reached it, the soft voice called out to him from the other side of the room. "Master," Anakin addressed him, sounding somewhat hesitant to say whatever it was he was going to.  
  
"Yes, Anakin?"  
  
There was a pause before the boy replied, his voice catching slightly with reigned-in emotion as he spoke. "I would have killed him, too."  
  
The words seemed to be echoed as a dark whispering in Obi-Wan's ear, making the hair on his arms stand up. "Go to bed, Anakin," he said softly but tersely. He heard the boy's door open and shut, then stepped back into his own room, his head ringing with the boy's words. Obi-Wan silently cursed the Force bond that had formed between them. It was bad enough that he should have to relive that moment, but for Anakin to have witnessed it as well was even worse. Clearly the boy looked up to him and would emulate his example. What kind of example had he set so far?  
  
Obi-Wan remembered the cold whispering of 'Young Master Kenobi' from the vision. The Sith had used Ersha's words. As much as he wanted to deny it, Obi-Wan could not help but draw the connection: the hatred that had been unleashed against the Sith was still lingering there. It had indeed made him powerful in his fight against the dark warrior, but at what price? He had a strange feeling that the voice from the vision was not the young Sith's but from another, darker source. It was watching him, beckoning him to call on the Dark Side again. No matter how hard he tried, Obi-Wan could not escape it. He had known he would have to face the darkness inside of him, but only now did he truly believe it.  
  
As Obi-Wan crawled back into his bed, he heightened the awareness of his mind. This time when he fell asleep, if he even could sleep now, he would block any visions that came to him. It was a daunting prospect, facing an enemy that was partly himself. But he vowed that he would not let it frighten him. Fear, he knew now all too well, was of the Dark Side.  
  
Both Anakin and Obi-Wan dragged their feet along tiredly as they made their way towards the dining hall for breakfast, though they tried not to let their weariness show. Obi-Wan had spent so much energy shielding himself against any more dreams that the sleep he had gotten after waking up the night before hadn't done him much good. By the looks of things, Anakin hadn't slept very well either. The boy hadn't said a word all morning, and Obi-Wan wasn't sure it was simply due to lack of sleep.  
  
As they reached the breakfast line, Obi-Wan felt compelled to say something to his padawan. He glanced down at the boy out of the corner of his eye. "Did you get much more sleep?" he asked.  
  
"No." Anakin shook his head sullenly without looking up.  
  
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. He desperately wanted to understand the boy, but it was so difficult. No one said it would be easy, he chided himself. He was certain it wasn't always easy for any of the other masters, but could not help thinking of his situation differently. Still, there was no alternative; he'd simply have to be the man Qui-Gon had trusted him to be. Carefully, Obi-Wan tried to read the boy's thoughts through the tenuous Force bond forming between them. A little to his surprise, he was met with the image of the smiling faces of Qui-Gon, Queen Amidala, and a woman he realised must to be the boy's mother. They were happy images, but Obi-Wan felt a distinct sense of melancholy attached to them. Focusing on the gentle face of his old master, he could not help but feel the same.  
  
Suddenly, Obi-Wan felt Anakin become aware of the Force connection being used. The boy looked up at his master curiously, causing Obi-Wan to withdraw immediately. But Anakin had already picked up on at least some of his feelings. Obi-Wan looked away, and after a moment, Anakin did the same as they moved forward a few steps in the line. They stood once again in silence, and Obi-Wan felt some distance coming back between them. His frustration rose, but this time mostly at himself. The boy had clearly wanted his advice, and Obi-Wan had instead let him fall back into woeful reflection instead. And Obi-Wan knew all too well what burying such emotions could mean.  
  
Swallowing his trepidation, Obi-Wan spoke gently but firmly. "I know you miss them," he began. Anakin glanced up at him. "But a Jedi must never put himself before those he serves. He must be willing to forfeit his desires for the sake of aiding others."  
  
"I do want to help people," Anakin insisted, "but how can I be a good Jedi if I'm always sad?"  
  
"All pain passes in time, padawan," Obi-Wan assured him.  
  
The boy looked down. "I guess," he mumbled, clearly trying not to be impolite but still coming across as grumbling.  
  
Obi-Wan sighed inwardly. Perhaps this was simply not the best time to help Anakin straighten out his views, seeing as they were both tired and most likely edgy. But he could also not help wondering that if it weren't now, then when would be the time? Furthermore, if his words were not getting through, how was he going to reach the boy?  
  
Turning their attention back to breakfast, the two grabbed utensils off the cart. This time, neither Anakin nor Obi-Wan took very much food, both too distracted and tired to be very hungry. They moved rather unhurriedly through the line, as well. When they finally reached the end, Anakin turned slowly in the direction of their table. As he did, a fast-moving figure slammed into him from the side, sending his tray clattering to the floor, his food spilling everywhere, including on himself. He fell back into Obi- Wan, spilling more food on himself and his master.  
  
"Hey, sleemo!" Anakin yelled angrily at the guilty party.  
  
The boy skidded to a halt and turned around. "Whoops," Ryu said half- heartedly, "sorry."  
  
When Obi-Wan recognized the boy as Ersha's padawan, his stomach flipped nervously, knowing it would inevitably mean another confrontation of some kind.  
  
Anakin, in his grumpy state, didn't seem to care who the boy was. "You will be sorry," he ground out threateningly, taking a step towards the older boy.  
  
"Maybe you should watch where you're going," Ryu retorted.  
  
"Well maybe you should-"  
  
"Anakin," Obi-Wan's stern voice cut the boy off. He placed a restraining hand on the his padawan's shoulder. Anakin looked up at him, annoyance still plastered on his face. "There's no need to be angry."  
  
"But Master, he-"  
  
"It doesn't matter what he did. His actions do not justify yours," Obi-Wan said. The boy set his jaw in defiance, but instead of responding, Obi-Wan knelt down and began picking up the haphazardly scattered food. He did it silently, doing his best to push his own irritation away and ignore his now stained tunic. Both boys stood looking on quietly for a while, until someone else joined the group.  
  
"Master Kenobi. Is there a problem?"  
  
When he heard Ersha's sharp voice, Obi-Wan froze for a second, his hand reaching for a smashed piece of fruit next to the older Jedi's boot. Before doing anything, he took a deep, calming breath and wrapped himself securely in the Light Side. He would not let himself be angry again, no matter how rude or belittling Ersha was to him. His actions do not justify yours, his words to Anakin echoed back to him. He recalled the fury that had emanated from the boy in his dream as he had watched Obi-Wan fight the Sith. That path was not an option.  
  
Slowly, and without glancing up, Obi-Wan grabbed the piece of fruit and placed it on the tray on the floor. After gathering the last few remaining items, he grabbed them and stood up, face to face with Ersha. "Master Dargo," he said with a polite nod. "There was a slight accident."  
  
"So I see," Ersha replied, eyeing Obi-Wan stoically.  
  
Obi-Wan would not allow the accusatory gaze to unsettle him. At the moment, he was far more concerned about the boy watching him at his side. There were more important things to be resolved than spilt food. He was stronger than his anger, and he intended to prove it to himself. He had promised himself he would, and he had promised so much more by taking on the responsibility of having Anakin as his padawan.  
  
It took all of Obi-Wan's thin patience and will, but he managed to swallow his pride and steel himself against his own resentment of Ersha. "Master Dargo," he said in a softer tone, "I would," he faltered a little. Just say it, he told himself. He knew he should, but there was almost nothing he hated more than admitting he was wrong. It had been easier to do with Qui- Gon because Qui-Gon never looked down on him for it, but he had no idea how Ersha would take it. Still, it had to be done. "I would like to apologize," Obi-Wan began sincerely, "for my behavior yesterday." He saw Ersha's eyebrows slowly rise. "I let myself become angry with you, and I should not have. I know better than to act that way. Please forgive me."  
  
There was a tense moment of silence as Ersha studied the young man, seeming to re-evaluate him. "Is this on Master Yoda's instruction?" he asked sceptically.  
  
"It is not," Obi-Wan replied, keeping his voice neutral. "It is simply what I knew I must do."  
  
Ersha nodded slowly, taking in what Obi-Wan had said. He had clearly not expected him to apologize, especially not of his own accord. Now it was his move, and there was clearly only one thing to do. "Your apology is accepted, Master Kenobi."  
  
Obi-Wan was not sure if it was his imagination or not, but it seemed that the title had been said with more sincerity this time. "Thank you," he replied politely. His eyes slid down towards his padawan, accompanied by a slight Force suggestion. The boy looked up, seeming a little embarrassed, then looked back to Ryu. Obi-Wan waited intently for the outcome he hoped for.  
  
"I'm sorry I got mad at you," Anakin said, if a little reluctantly.  
  
Ryu scratched the back of his short, wavy hair. "Uh, well, I guess I'm sorry for running, too," he said. There was a pause, then Ersha spoke up. "We should be getting on our way. We're heading for the training center." He sent Obi-Wan a sly, somewhat challenging glance. "Care to join us?"  
  
"No thank you," Obi-Wan said. He waved his wrapped hand, "I don't think I'll be doing any sparring for a while."  
  
"Very well," Ersha replied. "I suppose we'll see you around, then." He hesitated a moment, then bowed and headed for the exit, his padawan in tow.  
  
As Obi-Wan watched them go, he couldn't help but smile a little. It wasn't that he felt he had triumphed over Ersha, though perhaps that was a bit of it. Rather, Obi-Wan felt that he had taken a step in the right direction, both for himself and for Anakin. It was a small step, but a positive one nonetheless. "Well," he said, looking down at the ruined food stacked on his tray, "I don't suppose we should eat this."  
  
To Obi-Wan's delight, Anakin gave him a small grin. "No, I don't think it would taste very good. That floor looks kind of dirty."  
  
Obi-Wan walked to the reciprocal and tossed the trash in, then deposited the utensils in their spot, then headed back towards the end of the line, Anakin following close behind.  
  
With feet spread comfortably shoulder-width apart and arms clasped behind his back, Obi-Wan stood motionlessly before the window of his apartment. Outside, the sun reflected off countless speeders and other aircraft as they zoomed by on the way to their mid-morning destinations. Across the airway, a droid crew was busy cleaning the glass of a building's many windows. But Obi-Wan saw none of this. His eyes were closed, loosely but definitely; his mind was neither on the traffic or the cleaning droids, or even on his surroundings. Rather, he was deep in a meditative reflection.  
  
In his mind, he recalled a different scene- the day before, in the practice room. The walls and floor were white, and there was no furniture save for the bench at far end of the room off to his left. Normally in a mediation, Obi-Wan would attempt to focus his thoughts on one specific aspect, blocking out the extraneous. In this memory, there were no distractions in his surroundings to begin with. His focus lay instead on the figure beneath him.  
  
In the instant Obi-Wan had chosen to reflect on, he sat poised over Ersha, having just flipped him to the ground. His hands were wrapped around the muscular neck loosely in the accepted manner of poising for a mock death- blow in a sparring match. In the memory, his opponent's face wore an expression of smug doubt, as though he were challenging Obi-Wan.  
  
But he wasn't, Obi-Wan told himself. His mind had twisted the image to fit his justification, but he knew the picture wasn't right. The vision in his mind shifted, and now Ersha stared up at him with a mix of confusion and panic. He could sense what I was feeling, what I would do. The thought gave Obi-Wan pause. He could feel what even I couldn't until it was too late, what had taken hold of me. Carefully, Obi-Wan attempted to alter the dark feeling attached with the memory. Let go, he commanded himself. For a moment, nothing happened.  
  
Then suddenly, Ersha's dark, frightened eyes began to burn with an amber fire. The connection in Obi-Wan's mind was unquestionable. No, he reminded himself sharply, he is not the Sith. The Sith is gone. Don't let his grip on you remain. Let go. With a great effort, Obi-Wan shoved the thought aside. Ersha was not his enemy; not even the Sith had been his real enemy. The opponent he faced was the temptation within himself, the impulse to act out of revenge and anger. But aside would not be good enough, he knew. The feeling might return.  
  
As he had done in so many other meditations before, Obi-Wan searched for a wise thought to replace the flawed one. The Dark Side controls you, he told himself. It will consume you if you let it. Fear, anger, hate... these are the Dark Side, and lead only to suffering. It was one of the oldest lessons he remembered, something that Master Yoda had taught him as a youngling, that he had recited to himself so many times. Yet he had never really put the supposed belief to the test. Now he had seen the truth in the maxim. It had been so hard to turn away from the dark impulses, so much easier to simply give in. And the Dark Side had caused suffering, and not only for himself.  
  
Qui-Gon, he thought, stricken. He had fallen under the hands of the Sith Lord, driven by his hatred of the Jedi, consumed by the Dark Side. But I could have stopped it. I was so close... Or could he have? But no, that wasn't the point of this meditation. Obi-Wan pushed the thought aside and refocused on the crucial moment, the last moment he had been in control. In the real memory, he had let himself tighten his grip on Ersha's neck, losing power over himself. Forever will it dominate your destiny, he heard Yoda's wise words echo in his mind, words that had no doubt been uttered countless times by the old sage. Only now did they really seem true to Obi- Wan.  
  
His memory was still frozen in that last instant, that breaking point, when he had given in, willing to turn his anger on a fellow Jedi instead of fighting it off. But Obi-Wan knew that it didn't matter who Ersha was or what he had or hadn't done. He was not the enemy Obi-Wan should have been fighting. The dissonant feeling of welling hatred hung over the memory, looming in Obi-Wan's mind, threatening to break back into his waking reality the next time his guard was down. Don't let it frighten you. You're stronger than it is. The Light Side is stronger. With an effort that was strong but strangely calm, Obi-Wan called on the comforting Force he had always known, embracing its immense power. Slowly, the anger attached to the memory began to fade out of his mind. It took all of Obi-Wan's will to resist letting it back. Let go.  
  
This time, it was the last time. The vision suddenly jumped back into motion, but now it was different from his memory. Obi-Wan's left hand stayed loosely on Ersha's neck. His right flicked into the air, and then down in a sharp jab, stopping short of hitting his sparring partner. After a moment, Obi-Wan's arms relaxed completely. Slowly, he stood up and stepped off to Ersha's side.  
  
In a gesture of camaraderie, the young man extended his right hand, helping the older Jedi up off the mat. Now standing, Ersha quietly regarded Obi- Wan's calm expression. A few seconds passed. Then the tall Jedi's stern gaze faded to one of hushed appreciation. "Well done, Master Kenobi," Ersha said, bowing in acquiescence. The gesture was returned gratefully, and the vision slowly faded into black.  
  
After a few moments, Obi-Wan opened his eyes, squinting from the bright light coming in from outside. He could see that it was still early morning, but didn't know exactly how long his mediation had taken. It was hard to judge real time while participating in such an intense examination of oneself.  
  
A buzzing sound brought Obi-Wan fully back to the present. Realising it was coming from the apartment door, he turned around and headed towards it. Was Anakin back already? A glance at the chrono told him that the boy should still be in Yoda's instructional session with the younglings. Who could it be, then, he wondered. Obi-Wan palmed the control pad and the door slid open.  
  
The young man standing in front of his door was probably the last person Obi-Wan had been expecting. Viljo Brandeis's eyes were somewhat downcast as he stood nervously before his old friend. They flickered up for a moment, then went back down again as the young man bowed with all the true reverence of a padawan to a superior. "Master Kenobi," he said quietly.  
  
"Viljo," the young master replied gently, catching his friend a little off guard. "How long have we known each other?"  
  
Sensing his friend's tone, which had softened considerably from their last meeting, Brandeis relaxed visibly. "Perhaps too long," he replied with a smile.  
  
"It's possible," Obi-Wan commented. "Ah, would you like to come in?" he stepped back from the door. He was a little surprised to find how happy he was to see his old friend, especially after the harshness of their last conversation. But he was very grateful for a familiar face at the moment.  
  
Viljo looked a little unsure. "Well, I don't want to disturb you. I'm sure you're very busy."  
  
"I was meditating, but I've finished for now. I should be taking some time to work on a new sabre, but I seem to have put myself out of commission," Obi-Wan replied with a wave of his injured hand. Viljo smiled but still seemed unsure. Obi-Wan's voice dipped to a more serious tone as he let his hand fall to his side. "How I spoke to you the other day was...unfair. If I offended you, I apologize."  
  
"It wasn't just that, but-" Viljo paused mid-sentence. "May I come in?"  
  
Obi-Wan couldn't help but smiling at his friend's nervousness; and yet, it also made him a little sad to think that someone who used to feel so comfortable around him would now be so tense. "Yes, you may," he said as he turned around and led the way into the main room of the apartment.  
  
"So this is your new apartment," Viljo commented safely as he glanced around, "It seems..."  
  
"Exactly like every other apartment in the Temple?" Obi-Wan asked with a hint of a wry smile.  
  
"Good description."  
  
In an attempt to make the conversation more informal, Obi-Wan sat down on the couch, prompting Viljo to take a seat in the chair across from him. "You wanted to discuss something," Obi-Wan observed. He could sense there was something weighing heavily on his friend's mind. "I don't think you stopped by simply to say hello."  
  
"You do hate small talk," the young man replied. He hesitated, scratching the back of his head before continuing. "Well first, I also wanted to apologize for the other day. I should have been more respectful. I think I just hadn't adjusted to the idea of you being a Master."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "You are not the only one," he replied quietly. "I've trained my whole life to be a Jedi," he glanced away regretfully, "but not like this."  
  
"You know," Viljo said slowly, "I've always looked up to you."  
  
Obi-Wan turned back to the young man, taking in the comment curiously. The two had known each other for years, and though Obi-Wan was older, he hadn't ever really considered that his friend might have looked up to him. He certainly hadn't been aware of it at the time. Recalling that Brandeis had been at the training facility the day before, Obi-Wan felt sure that whatever image of him had been built up in Viljo's eyes had been destroyed. "And now?" he asked in a sad, low tone.  
  
Viljo seemed to understand perfectly what Obi-Wan was insinuating by the question. His lips twisted in quiet contemplation as he searched for the right answer. "No one is fit to judge your actions, Obi-Wan. They don't know what you've experienced. I certainly don't," he paused a moment. "But that doesn't mean they won't. You just can't let it get to you so much."  
  
"What if they are right to be concerned?" Obi-Wan asked. "Aren't you?"  
  
Shifting in his seat, the young Jedi shrugged his shoulders. "It's not really my business."  
  
Obi-Wan refused to give the matter up. His friend had been honest with him thus far, but still seemed to be withholding. "And if it were your business," he asked, "would you be concerned?"  
  
Brandeis gave him an honest, if reluctant, stare. "I think you're more than capable of training Anakin. I only worry about how it might change you."  
  
"Everything changes," Obi-Wan replied with a hint of melancholy.  
  
"Yes," Viljo replied reluctantly. "I guess you're right." Despite his acknowledgment, the young man seemed unsettled by Obi-Wan's reply. For a moment, a solemn silence settled over the two, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but note how much things had already changed, both around him and within himself.  
  
Brandeis seemed determined to break the silence and switch the subject. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to a purplish stain on Obi-Wan's tunic.  
  
"Oh," Obi-Wan said, glancing down at the spot, then back up. "The result of an unfortunate collision," he replied cryptically.  
  
"Anakin?" Viljo asked with a hint of a knowing grin.  
  
"Much to my surprise, it actually wasn't his fault. I think dining hall traffic is mostly to blame," Obi-Wan said as he scooted back into the couch, relaxing a little.  
  
"Hm," Viljo let out an amused snort. Obi-Wan gave him a questioning look. "It just reminds me," the young man said with a smirk, "of that food fight. You remember the one?" Obi-Wan shook his head. "I was 11, you were 14. I had just become a padawan recently, and we were at one of those dinners where the masters ate separately from us. I don't even remember how it happened, but someone started throwing things, and soon everyone had joined in. Except you of course. You were just sitting there, eating your food, dodging the occasional roll." Viljo laughed at the memory.  
  
"Ah," Obi-Wan said, slowly recalling. "I do remember that. I remember how much trouble everyone else got in for that, including you," he said pointedly.  
  
"But you didn't want to get in trouble," Viljo noted.  
  
"I wanted to eat," Obi-Wan corrected, deadpan.  
  
Viljo laughed again. "You see, I learned early on to follow your example," he said in an oddly mixed tone of levity and gravity. Then, more seriously, "Anakin looks up to you, too, you know. I see how he watches everything you do."  
  
"And hangs on my every word, of course," Obi-Wan quipped sarcastically.  
  
"Well, kids hear more than we think sometimes." Reluctantly, Brandeis glanced at his wrist chrono. "I have to be leaving soon," he said, "Master Trale and I have a mission we're supposed to depart for in a few minutes."  
  
"So you came here with an easy escape route in mind?" Obi-Wan asked wryly.  
  
"That was the plan," Viljo said as they both stood and headed slowly for the door.  
  
"That's something I will miss," Obi-Wan said.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Missions. I've gotten so used to them I'm afraid I won't know what to do with myself here at the Temple for the next few years." Though Obi-Wan's tone was mostly light, behind it lay true regret. It was the first time he'd thought about being stuck on Coruscant for the first few years of Anakin's training, but that was the most likely situation. He had spent so much of his life at the Temple that sometimes it was nice to simply be away for a while.  
  
Brandeis shrugged. "Well, think of it this way," he said, "at least you won't have to fly as much."  
  
"True," Obi-Wan said, acknowledging his open dislike for that particular type of transportation. Despite the assurances of technology, he always felt as though something bad were bound to happen to him on a flight. The relatively large target a spacecraft provided for blasters and other forms of munitions did nothing to reassure him. Obi-Wan much preferred the comforting weight of a lightsabre hilt in his hand to awkward pilot's controls.  
  
"Well," Brandeis said as he opened the door, "I suppose I'll see you again...sometime."  
  
"Yes," Obi-Wan replied slowly, though he felt sure neither of them were naïve enough to think anything was going back to the comfortable way it had been. The brief talk had been encouraging, but Obi-Wan knew much had still left unsaid, unexplored, that he would have to confront later. For now, though, he was more grateful than Viljo knew for the visit. A comment of gratitude sat on his lips for a moment, but then he withdrew it. Instead, he simply nodded respectfully to his friend, knowing the tacit meaning was understood.  
  
With an expression of nostalgic melancholy, Brandeis turned and took a few steps down the hallway. Before he had gone very far, however, he stopped and turned around. "Obi-Wan," he called, stopping his friend from closing the door. The older man waited for whatever it was that Viljo had left to say. To his surprise, the young man simply smiled half-teasingly and commented, "Love the beard."  
  
Obi-Wan simply shook his head.  
  
When Obi-Wan arrived at the small training room, Yoda's morning class of younglings was just dismissing. The old Master led the trail of attentive students out into the hallway and collected behind him. Obi-Wan spotted Anakin in the back, standing a head taller than the others, and with a rather unhappy expression on his face.  
  
"Master Kenobi," Yoda said, tilting his head upwards.  
  
"Master Yoda," Obi-Wan returned respectfully.  
  
"Your training of Padawan Skywalker, proceeding well is it?"  
  
Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure what to make of the question. Was it mere curiosity or more specific knowledge that had prompted the old Jedi's inquiry? "It is," the young man replied, adding a polite smile for authenticity. The assessment wasn't precisely true, but he did at least have a feeling that things were shaping up for the better as of late, or would be.  
  
"Good news, this is," Yoda replied. "Then perhaps speak to him you will of his discontentment, you can?"  
  
"Discontentment?" Obi-Wan asked, looking up at Anakin with a slightly worried expression. It had seemed that they had been getting used to one another. This morning's breakfast had gone particularly well, he thought. Why should Anakin be distressed now? Yet that was how the boy looked.  
  
Master Yoda turned back to the children. "Discuss something with Master Kenobi, I must. Excuse us for a moment, will you?"  
  
"Yes Master Yoda," the younglings replied in unison.  
  
Turning back around, Yoda began hobbling away a few steps. Obi-Wan followed him around the corner, then stopped to hear what he had to say, listening intently.  
  
"Padawan Skywalker is displeased," the old Master said, sending another wave of anxiety through Obi-Wan. Then, Yoda continued, "Impatient with the younglings is he."  
  
Some of the tension in Obi-Wan's shoulders slacked. So the frustration was with his class, not with his master. "His skills do exceed theirs," he replied.  
  
"But his training does not," Yoda replied with a light rap of his gimmer stick. The comment made Obi-Wan bristle. "Only just begun has his instruction," the old Jedi added a little more gently.  
  
"Perhaps he would learn more quickly were his lessons individual," Obi-Wan suggested, hesitating before adding, "and were I allowed to teach him."  
  
Obi-Wan had expected Yoda to be thrown off by the bold statement, but the small Jedi closed his eyes and shook his head as though he had been expecting it. "Young Obi-Wan," he rasped, "always so quick are you to decide. Forgotten, have you, the importance of patience?"  
  
Now Obi-Wan was really becoming irritated. He understood the importance Yoda placed on proper training, but the basic Force skills and concepts Anakin would learn in class with the younglings were something Obi-Wan felt more than prepared to teach. They were simple concepts, and he was quite frankly insulted that Yoda thought him incapable of passing on such basic knowledge. "With all due respect, Master," Obi-Wan replied tersely, "Anakin is my padawan. His training is my responsibility, and I believe he would benefit from a more personal learning environment."  
  
Yoda hummed in worrisome contemplation, then looked back up at Obi-Wan. "Developed a training bond, have you?"  
  
"We have," Obi-Wan answered immediately, sure that information would catch Yoda off guard. If he had been expecting to land Obi-Wan in a trap, he would not succeed.  
  
"Good , good," Yoda replied with a nod, seeming genuinely pleased. "But justify an inadequate training it will not."  
  
"I can assure you, Master Yoda, his training will be more than sufficient," Obi-Wan replied confidently.  
  
A long, resigned breath proceeded the old Jedi's inevitable concession. "Teach the boy, you may. But," he jabbed a cautionary finger up at the young man, "careful you must be to leave nothing out. Of great importance are principles, not skills alone."  
  
The caveat seemed rather pointless. Master Yoda knew Obi-Wan well enough to know that he had always been a great student of and adherent to the Code. "I can assure you that I will," he stated resolutely.  
  
Yoda said nothing in reply, turning around instead and hobbling back to where his class stood patiently awaiting him. "Come, younglings," he said genially as he started leading them back to the crèche.  
  
Anakin waited for the group to pass, then made his way over to his master. Obi-Wan could tell the boy was frustrated, by his expression and by the Force, and did not entirely blame him. He had a fairly good idea of what it felt like to be slowed by the sluggishness of others himself. He took a few steps down the hall, urging Anakin to follow. "You seem unhappy," he commented sympathetically.  
  
"I don't think Master Yoda likes me," the boy said, anguished.  
  
"He likes you," Obi-Wan assured him, "he simply has a strange way of doing things sometimes."  
  
"I just wanted to do something new; we've been making rocks float a lot and I know that's not all Jedi do."  
  
"No," Obi-Wan said with a grin, "It isn't." he paused a moment, though he kept walking towards his intended destination. "I spoke with Master Yoda about your problem."  
  
"Oh," Anakin replied, not sounding very encouraged.  
  
"And it was decided," Obi-Wan continued, his eyes on Anakin's downcast face, "that I would take over the training you were learning in class in addition to the training I've already been giving you."  
  
Immediately, the boy looked up, his eyes sparking with hope. "You will?" he asked. Obi-Wan nodded. "That would be a lot better!" The young man could not help but smile. Perhaps Viljo was right about Anakin looking up to him. "Master Yoda knows a lot," Anakin added, "but I don't like being in that class."  
  
"Then you won't have to be anymore." Obi-Wan exchanged a smile with his padawan, and through the Force felt a ripple of gratitude and excitement from the boy.  
  
It took a few seconds for Anakin to let the announcement sink in, and only then did he notice their unfamiliar surroundings. "Master, where are we going?"  
  
"So you noticed that you've never been here before?" Obi-Wan asked with a grin. Indeed, concentration would definitely be one of the first principles he taught Anakin, just as he had planned their first day at the Temple. It seemed he had been more attuned to the boy than he'd thought. That made him feel hopeful about his future instruction.  
  
"Yeah," Anakin replied with slight chagrin.  
  
Obi-Wan did not reply, but only took a few more steps and stood in front of a high, open archway. Anakin stopped along with him and followed his master's eyes to the room before him. The high ceiling above was entirely clear, letting the natural light of Coruscant's sun illuminate the space. The light fell on an amazing array of colours from plants of nearly every major variety. Gazing upon the scene in awe, Anakin's jaw loosened, but no words came out. It was clear what he was thinking, though.  
  
"These are the gardens I promised to bring you to," Obi-Wan said.  
  
Anakin could not seem to pull his eyes away from the scenery. "It's huge!" he said quietly, stunned.  
  
There were stone paths winding through and around the plants, and a few Jedi were in sight nearby, but from here, most parts of the garden were invisible. It was specifically designed so that many Jedi might be able to use it for meditation or teaching without having to sacrifice their peaceful solitude. Obi-Wan had spent countless hours there, but still wasn't certain he'd seen all of it. He watched as Anakin slowly stepped into the garden and began examining several flower bushes alongside the path.  
  
"There aren't any flowers like this on Tatooine," the boy said as he delicately fingered a violet bud. He looked up and around at the foliage. "This reminds me of Naboo."  
  
The comments reminded Obi-Wan that the boy still did not have a good understanding of the Jedi rules on attachment; perhaps he should take the opportunity to explain it more. He had, after all, just been given the task of relaying just this sort of information to the boy. "Anakin," Obi-Wan said slowly. Once his padawan had turned his head to look at him, Obi-Wan continued. "Do you recall what I told you about attachments?  
  
"You said we couldn't have them," Anakin replied slowly, "and that I'd understand... but I'm not sure I do."  
  
Obi-Wan moved to a stone bench on the other side of the path and sat down, waving the boy over to him. Anakin came and sat on the stone path, his attention flitting between Obi-Wan and the flower bushes behind him. Obi- Wan noticed but continued anyway. "A Jedi's loyalty is to the light side of the Force and doing everything he can to use it to help those that need it. He is essentially a tool for the perpetuation of good throughout the galaxy."  
  
The explanation seemed to have gone a little over Anakin's head, but he seemed to understand mostly. "I know that Jedi do good things for people. That's one of the biggest reasons I wanted to be a Jedi, because I wanted to be able to help other people."  
  
"That's very good," Obi-Wan replied, "but you must understand that this means a Jedi must be willing to make sacrifices in order to do that: giving up your possessions beyond necessities, being willing to give up your own comfort, and sometimes even giving your life." Obi-Wan's voice dipped lower on the last comment. His intense gaze met Anakin's and he knew he had the boy's complete attention for once. "Qui-Gon sacrificed all of these things and because of it he was able to help countless individuals and communities during his lifetime."  
  
For a long moment, both remained silent. Obi-Wan tried to get a sense through their Force-bond what Anakin was thinking, but it was muddled. He wasn't sure if this was for lack of a clear connection between them or because the boy couldn't make sense of his own thoughts. Obi-Wan gave him a while to consider it.  
  
"I want to be like that," Anakin said finally.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded slowly in satisfaction at the answer. If this was an indication of how things were to be, he had little reason to worry about being able to teach Anakin the Code and ways of the Force. The boy certainly didn't listen all the time, but the garden had a noticeable calming effect on his mind, or so it seemed to Obi-Wan. Besides, the concepts of the Code were straightforward and fairly easy to understand. He was certain Anakin would learn quickly.  
  
"I am glad to hear that," Obi-Wan replied. Another thing had come to his mind when Anakin had mentioned Tatooine, and now seemed like as good a time as any to bring it up. "Anakin, do you remember the necklace you gave me, the one your mother made you?" The boy nodded. "I was thinking that perhaps I could speak with the Council and get them to have it added to the Halls of Memory."  
  
"What are those?" the boy asked.  
  
"They are halls in the Jedi Archives where certain items that used to belong to Jedi are kept," Obi-Wan explained. "They serve as reminders of the people who have gone before us and the great things they have done, the sacrifices they have made." He could see that the boy was interested in the idea but not too keen on the thought of giving up his last remaining possession from home. In reality, he had little choice in the matter; Obi- Wan had come to realise he could never give the necklace back to the boy, and this seemed like the only alternative short of destroying it. He thought of something else that might persuade Anakin. "Qui-Gon's lightsabre and cloak are there now," he said.  
  
The boy turned the comment over in his mind, considering the implications of what was being proposed. "I ...guess that would be okay," he replied, still not seeming happy about it but resigned nonetheless.  
  
"Good," Obi-Wan replied with a smile meant to convey being pleased which really held mostly relief. He didn't want to force Anakin to give the item up, but he knew it had to go. This was the best way to make the boy feel good about it and to avoid Anakin becoming angry with him. "It will be a symbol of what you have given up in order to help others. Someday, you will be able to look back on it and see that your sacrifice was worthy."  
  
"Can I still see it?" Anakin asked, adding quickly, "just sometimes."  
  
"Yes, you may," Obi-Wan replied. "It will remind you of how important your goal of becoming a Jedi is." I hope, he thought silently.  
  
Anakin managed a small smile. "I want to be as good a Jedi as Qui-Gon was," he said. "And you are," he added after the slightest of pauses.  
  
The afterthought did not escape Obi-Wan's attention, but he decided to let it slide. They had been speaking of Qui-Gon, not of himself. It was still clear that Anakin looked up to him and it was becoming clear that he would listen to what his Master had to say when the circumstances were right. It simply required a peaceful atmosphere for now, and Obi-Wan was sure things would change as they both adjusted to the arrangement. At that moment, he saw in Anakin the potential that Qui-Gon had seen in him, regardless of whatever flaws he might have. No one was perfect, after all. Obi-Wan leaned over and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You will be," he said, then smiled and added, this time as much a pledge to himself as to the boy, "you will be." 


	3. Episode III: Smoke and Mirrors

_Three years later..._

**Episode III: Smoke and Mirrors**

Anakin Skywalker was somewhere in this room. Now if only Obi-Wan could figure out where. He stood at the south entrance of the Temple Gardens and cast out in the Force for the presence of his padawan in the vast room. He felt nothing, but knew the boy was there somewhere nonetheless. Almost without fail, Anakin spent every drop of his free time in the gardens. The lush beauty was apparently too much for the boy to resist. As soon as he was released from one of his standard educational classes, he headed here like a bolt drawn to a magnet. He was here all right. But Obi-Wan hadn't the faintest idea where.

As he walked into the gardens and down the stone path, Obi-Wan glanced around for any sign of his apprentice. The boy had been known to fall asleep in the grass on occasion, or more often could be caught challenging his friends to bush-leaping contests. The last time Obi-Wan wandered in on one of those, he had been unfortunate enough to find himself an unwilling break to one of the youngsters falls. It had been sternly suggested that they refrain from the activity. Apparently they had accepted the proposal, as there were no rambunctious padawans to be seen today, only a few scattered knights in their secluded meditations. Obi-Wan did not think it would be very polite to interrupt them to ask if they had seen where his padawan had gone to.

Obi-Wan continued on his way down the path, taking in the keen smell of freshness appreciatively. In the Temple Gardens, it was always the season for some sort of plant to be blooming, which ensured year-round foliage. The path came to a fork, and Obi-Wan instinctively took the way to the right. This was the way he usually came to seek out a particularly peaceful spot in the shade of a burgundy tree. His friends had long ago dubbed it 'Kenobi's Tree', where he would spend hours in meditation or simply relaxing and reading an interesting historical volume.

Approaching the familiar crook in the path where his tree stood, the young man felt a familiar presence in the Force sitting beneath it. Quietly, he approached the peaceful figure, whose dark eyes were intently scanning a data pad.

"The latest holo-novel, I presume," Obi-Wan commented. He folded his arms and put on an air of superiority as the younger man glanced up at him. "I hardly think the details of Ophelia's latest near-marriage to a spice trader are important enough to warrant such concentration. I would expect better of you, Padawan Brandeis."

A smile flitted across Viljo's face as he stood up. "It's not near as exciting as that," he said, attempting nonchalance. The young man handed the data pad over to his friend.

Obi-Wan glanced at the report on the screen, then up at his friend, who was now unable to contain a large grin. "So it seems you haven't succeeded in failing the trials," Obi-Wan said with a slight shake of his head. "What is to become of you now?"

"A knight, I suppose," Viljo replied.

Finally, Obi-Wan's lips cracked a smile as well. "Congratulations," he said, handing the data pad back to his friend. "When will the ceremony be?"

"Tomorrow," the dark-haired man replied.

Obi-Wan's face fell a little. "Ah," he said slowly. "My padawan and I have just been assigned another mission. We're supposed to leave tonight." A pang of regret ran through the young Jedi Master. He had hardly seen his old friends at all in the last few years. Being knighted was a momentous event in the life of a Jedi and it seemed as though he should be present for his friend's ceremony. But, as always, Obi-Wan was called away from those remnants of his old life by the reality of the new.

Viljo seemed to sense where the conversation was going, and cut it off with a curt wave of his hand. "It's all right. You have more important things to do," he said with no trace of mocking.

"At the moment, the most pressing task I have is to locate my padawan," Obi-Wan said with a hint of a sigh. "Have you seen him?"

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere," Viljo replied casually as his eyes pointed up to the tree above them.

"Right," Obi-Wan replied, catching the hint. He took a few steps past his friend. "I'm sure I'll find him soon," he said, an instant before his left arm shot upwards in a lightning-quick move and yanked on a small boot dangling in the limbs.

"Hey!" the boy attached to the boot protested as he slipped involuntarily to a lower branch. Seeing that his plan had been ruined, Anakin unceremoniously let himself fall backward out of the tree.

"Careful," Obi-Wan admonished as his padawan completed a clean back flip and landed on his feet. The boy straightened up and rolled his eyes dismissively at the comment. Clearly, he was in no real danger of harming himself this way, but Obi-Wan felt the need to caution his apprentice. It was some sort of obligation he felt as the boy's effective guardian.

"I'm fine," Anakin insisted. Then his attention turned to the man next to his master. "You told him!" he vented indignantly.

"I said nothing," Viljo insisted.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan intoned sternly. The boy tensed visibly. He knew that voice. "Force cloaking is not something to be used for games of hide and seek."

"I was practicing," the boy insisted, conjuring up his most innocent expression.

"Indeed," the young master replied. "Then I suppose I should let you get back to practicing and not trouble you with the mission assignment."

The boy's eyebrows lifted hopefully. "A mission? Is this one off Coruscant?"

"No," Obi-Wan replied, knowing it would be disappointing news. Thus far, the pair had not been assigned a mission off-world. The Council felt that Anakin needed some more time in training before he would be prepared for that. Obi-Wan understood their reasons, but personally wanted to go somewhere other than various parts of Coruscant for once. Though he had spent many years here as an initiate, it had never bothered him until he had become a padawan and begun regularly travelling to other worlds. The Temple would always be a welcomed refuge for him- it was the closest thing he had to a home. The rest of the planet, however, left something to be desired. Three years of the same scenery was getting very tiresome. Not that he was about to let Anakin know that.

"Patience, padawan," Obi-Wan said, "the time will come soon enough. For now, you should focus on readying yourself for this mission."

"All right," the boy replied, a little begrudgingly. "What is it?"

"I'm not entirely certain. The only information I was given is that it will be here on Coruscant and that we are to be ready on the landing platform at sundown…" he hesitated a beat. "to meet with the Chancellor."

"We've been assigned a mission for Chancellor Palpatine?" Anakin asked, obviously impressed.

"We have," Obi-Wan replied evenly. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Viljo grinning at him. Anyone who had known Obi-Wan long knew of his distaste for politics and those involved in them. It was an unavoidable aspect of a Jedi's life, which he made a concerted effort to avoid whenever possible. This, however, was not something he could escape. The Chancellor had personally requested he and Anakin for this mission for whatever reason. Palpatine had always treated the pair as a personal connection in the Order, which Obi-Wan greatly resented. He had not fought for Naboo simply to please her leaders. Anakin, however, was more than happy to accept the Chancellor's doting every now and then.

"Well," Viljo said with a wry smile, "that should be a very interesting mission."

"Undoubtedly," Obi-Wan replied dryly.

"We'd better pack our stuff then, shouldn't we?" Anakin asked anxiously. Before Obi-Wan had time to answer, the boy continued. "It was nice to see you Viljo. Congratulations on being knighted!" And with a wave, the boy was eagerly headed back towards their apartment.

Obi-Wan let out a ragged sigh. "I'm too old for this," he grumbled, then jogged after his padawan. From behind him, he could hear his friend quietly laughing.

As Coruscant's sun settled itself down over the horizon, Obi-Wan and his apprentice arrived at the indicated landing platform, their brown travel sacks slung over their shoulders. Not knowing the nature of the mission, Obi-Wan had felt it important to at least bring some supplies with them. Anakin had been excited about the idea of staying somewhere other than the Temple for once, until Obi-Wan insisted that he would need to bring some class work with him, which had dampened the boy's mood considerably. But Anakin's moods were prone to changing, and now as they stood awaiting the Chancellor's ship, the boy was filled with excitement.

"Do you think we'll be staying with the Chancellor?" Anakin asked as he entwined his fingers anxiously in the single strap of his pack.

Obi-Wan bit back a sigh. "As I've said, Anakin, I have no information on what this mission will entail. We may not need to be away from the Temple at all."

The boy's questions abated as a low rumbling filled the air. The landing platform trembled slightly as a massive, beautifully streamlined yacht settled gently onto the tarmac. A hot wind radiated from the craft, ruffling the edges of the Jedi's cloaks and further tousling Obi-Wan's unkempt hair. There was an expectant pause before the long ramp slowly lowered. Two straight-backed guards dressed in slate robes, heads adorned with sleek helmets crested by plumes, made their way slowly down to the deck, their boots clicking in perfect unison.

A small smile tugged at Anakin's lips as he took in the ceremonious sight. Obi-Wan casually smoothed back his dishevelled locks, unimpressed with the show of grandeur. Such displays had become nothing more than platitudes after so many years of dealing with pompous politicians and nobles. Still, a sense of propriety kept him from ever saying anything about it; at least not to those he really desired to say something to.

Soon, a robed figure appeared at the top of the ramp and slowly made his way down. The bright light of the fading sun shone behind him, reducing his form to a silhouette. His heavy mantle swished softly in the silence as he made his way towards the two Jedi.

Anakin's smile faded as he put on a stern look of professionalism. His posture straightened and he subtly slid the edge of his cloak out to reveal the lightsabre hanging from his belt.

As he approached, Palpatine's smiling face slowly faded into view. Obi-Wan bowed politely and his padawan followed suit. The Chancellor stopped in front of them. "Master Kenobi, it is good to see you again." He pressed his hands together as he spoke, as though begging the Jedi's approval.

_Apparently he fails to realise I have little money,_ Obi-Wan thought sourly. Outwardly, however, he returned the executive's cordial smile, but remained silent.

Sensing he would get no further welcome from the Jedi Master, Palpatine turned his eyes down towards the apprentice. "And young Anakin," the Chancellor's tone became more familiar, "I do believe you've grown since the last time I saw you. I should think you will soon be taller than Master Kenobi."

That comment elicited a tiny grin from the boy, but Obi-Wan remained passive. He wished Palpatine would get through the pleasantries as quickly as possible. Surely he realised there were no financiers, no constituents around to note them. There was no one here to impress who had anything to contribute to the Chancellor. The man's dedication to the façade was remarkable.

Palpatine's eyes flicked to the subtly but proudly displayed cylinder resting at the boy's hip. "And you now have your own lightsabre. Congratulations! What a monumental step in a Jedi's life."

"Thank you, Chancellor." The formality of Anakin's words was negated by the broad smile on his face.

Obi-Wan could sense his apprentice's hand subconsciously settling on the hilt, itching to unclip it and show it off. He sent Anakin a light warning through the Force, and the boy reluctantly clasped his hands behind his back as Obi-Wan was. There was no place for showing off, and with the gesture Anakin acquiesced to humility. Obi-Wan was pleased. "Chancellor Palpatine," the Jedi spoke evenly. "We would not want to delay this mission any further."

"Indeed, neither would I, Master Jedi," Palpatine insisted. "This mission is very close to my heart. We can discuss it on the way." He turned and headed up the ramp, indicating for the Jedi and his guards to follow.

The décor inside the Chancellor's private yacht was opulent, as expected. The surfaces all reeked of tax money spent on the finest woods and fine metals. It made Obi-Wan quite happy not to be a tax payer.

Palpatine led them to a private room on the starboard side of the ship. He took a seat in a large chair behind a solid wood desk and motioned for the Jedi to be seated across from him. Both Anakin and Obi-Wan sat down in their chairs and awaited the Chancellor's explanation. Instead of immediately beginning, he reached into a deep drawer and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of light pink liquid. "Have a drink, Master Kenobi," he said as he poured some into both glasses.

It was not a question, and Obi-Wan was in no place to refuse the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Offering no thanks, he quietly raised his glass to his lips and took a small drink. After setting the glass back on the desk, he wiped a droplet from his beard and sat back in his chair, folding his arms loosely across his chest. Anakin didn't seem to notice the tacit exchange; he only waited eagerly to hear about the mission.

"I'm sure you're familiar with the Katadoni Orphanage and the incidents there last week," Palpatine stated mater-of-factly, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm afraid I'm not," Obi-Wan replied.

A look of slight surprise passed over Palpatine's face. "Really? Well, it is absolutely dreadful." He rubbed a thumb slowly around the edge of his glass, glancing down at it sadly as he spoke. "Last week, four of the orphans disappeared inexplicably. They were simply snatched from their beds during the night."

"That is terrible," Obi-Wan said, his voice displaying a sincerity that Palpatine's seemed to lack, at least to his ears.

"The Orphanage has been a particular favourite of mine for some time now," the Chancellor continued. "I visit there as often as possible and the thought of what might have happened to some of its children," he sighed and let his hand slide off the glass onto the table. "You see why I wanted to deal with this matter myself."

"Chancellor," Anakin broke in. Two sets of eyes turned to him; one pair expectant, the other tense. The boy shied away from his master's gaze, which entreated him not to say anything that might be out of place. He set his focus instead on the Chancellor. "Do they know what happened to the orphans that were taken?"

"No one is quite sure," Palpatine replied slowly. Then he gave the boy a small smile. "That is what you are going to find out. I don't doubt your skills. I would not trust the fate of the children to anyone but the Jedi, and to no other Jedi before you two."

Anakin nodded and sat back, avoiding his master's eyes but unable to block out the mild rebuke he was sent through their bond. The boy knew to be careful of what he said and to whom- etiquette was an essential part of Jedi schooling. It has been a harmless question, thankfully, so Obi-Wan was not too concerned. But he knew Anakin's forwardness and propensity for speaking before he thought, which constantly put the Jedi Master on edge whenever his padawan spoke to someone in authority. He supposed it was a silly thing to be troubled about, but it made him nervous anyway. He had never spoken that much as a padawan, not until he was older anyway.

"We shall do whatever we can to discover who took the children and where they are," Obi-Wan ensured Palpatine. "As well as securing the orphanage against any further incidents."

"I would be most pleased if you did, Master Kenobi, I really would," the Chancellor insisted, perhaps a little too earnestly. "It must be terribly frightening for the children."

Obi-Wan was sceptical of just how concerned Palpatine truly was for the orphans, but reminded himself not to let his own personal feelings cloud his judgment of the situation. There were missing children involved, and getting them back safely was more important than butting heads with the Supreme Chancellor. He didn't suspect the Council would be very happy about that, anyway. So he forced himself to take another drink and tried to release his dislike of Palpatine.

As Obi-Wan drank, the Chancellor pulled a data pad out from the top drawer of his desk. "What little information the police were able to gather is here in this report." Obi-Wan set his glass down and took the data pad. "I've also included the code to your hotel room. I took the liberty of booking it myself. It's right across from the orphanage. I've rented out a speeder for you as well, in case you should need to do some investigating elsewhere on Coruscant."

The idea sat poorly with Obi-Wan. He considered insisting that he and Anakin would be fine to stay at the Temple and transport themselves to the orphanage, but felt he had already showed too much unwarranted disdain towards the Chancellor. He nodded curtly in response as he tucked the data pad away in the lining of his outer tunic. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Anakin giving him an expectant, pleading look. It took him a moment to realise the boy wanted to ask something, but it took him no time at all to guess at what the question might be. Sighing inaudibly, he turned back to Palpatine. "Would it be all right," he asked, "if my padawan were to fly the speeder? I know it is unusual for someone his age and I'm not quite sure what the regulations on that might be for a rental speeder."

A warm grin broke out over the old politician's face as his eyes turned to Anakin. "I'm sure it will be no trouble at all. Regardless of the regulations, any pilot as skilled as Padawan Skywalker may fly as often as he wishes."

The boy's cheeks turned a light pink, and he smiled happily. The fact that apparently this was illegal seemed not to have hit home with Anakin, but Obi-Wan had not missed it. But what could he do? The Supreme Chancellor himself had authorised it, and he doubted any lowly traffic officer would question that authority. Still, it felt wrong.

"And don't worry," Palpatine assured, as though reading Obi-Wan's thoughts, "no one will give you any trouble. It will be our secret. All right?"

Anakin nodded his agreement, clearly pleased with the arrangement. Obi-Wan's stomach churned at the thought of Anakin piloting his way through busy Coruscant airways, but he remained silent.

"We should be arriving at the orphanage shortly," the Chancellor said. Obi-Wan expected him to stand and leave the Jedi to themselves for a while, but instead Palpatine poured himself another drink and sipped at it quietly. After an uncomfortable moment, Obi-Wan cleared his throat and finished his own drink, then sat back as well, not wanting to discuss anything about the mission with Anakin until they were alone. The boy looked back and forth between the two men, shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Clearly, no one was in the mood for small talk. Anakin bit back his comments and waited out the agonizing silence obediently.

As soon as the Chancellor's yacht had settled into the orphanage's docking facility, Obi-Wan was on his feet. He was more than ready to leave Palpatine's presence and get to the actual mission. "Thank you for the transportation, Your Excellency," the Jedi said with a curt nod. He glanced down at his still-seated padawan. "Anakin," Obi-Wan said, urging the boy to follow him.

The padawan glanced back at his master and gave him a conceding nod, then stood. He turned back to face Palpatine, but said nothing. The two only exchanged comfortable smiles before the boy bowed and turned to follow his master off the ship.

They made their way quietly through the hangar. As far as hangars went, it seemed fairly average. Then again, Obi-Wan wasn't sure he'd ever seen an opulent hangar. The door that led into the orphanage, however, was painted in an elaborate, hand-created design. Obi-Wan glanced at it briefly, then opened it and stepped inside. The two Jedi were immediately greeted by a reception room decorated in warm, inviting tones. Though the decorations were few, it was very clean and had clearly been renovated recently. Anakin glanced around, seeming impressed. Obi-Wan could not deny that the facility was nice, but doubted many other orphanages had marble floors.

The centrepiece of the room was a half-circle reception desk. Behind it stood a young woman in a blue outfit that attempted to be professional but seemed a little too perky. She had been drumming her fingers on the desktop in either apprehension or boredom, Obi-Wan couldn't quite tell. As soon as she saw the visitors approaching, however, she straightened up and smiled brightly.

"Oh, hello! Welcome to the Katadoni Orphanage. I'm Kala Sigrid, the Minister of Humanities for Sector 24. Which is this sector, of course." She grinned at her own comment. "And you must be the Jedi sent to investigate the disappearances." She looked over their clothing. "Well, I guess you couldn't really be anything else, could you!"

The woman's cheerful laugh grated on Obi-Wan's nerves a little, and he replied with his best diplomatic smile. "Yes, I am Obi-Wan Kenobi and this is my padawan, Anakin Skywalker." He studied the young woman carefully and decided she couldn't have been older than her mid twenties. How, then, had she earned such an important position? Obi-Wan did not want to be quick to judge, but felt reasonably sure that it wasn't because of her exemplary intelligence. Perhaps she had a powerful relative. It was then that Obi-Wan noticed the portrait hanging on the wall behind the desk- a carefully painted image of the Supreme Chancellor with a plaque praising him for his benevolent contributions to the orphanage. No, Obi-Wan would not put nepotism beyond the organisation at all.

"Well, it's good to have you here," Miss Sigrid said. There was a pause before she stepped out from behind the desk. "I suppose you'd like to see the room the four children were occupying?" Obi-Wan nodded. "Right this way," she said as she led them down a hallway off to the right. "What do you know of the incident so far?" she asked, turning around briefly as she walked.

"Just what was in the police report," Obi-Wan replied. "This past week, four days ago, four orphans were taken from their room here before an alarm was sounded. There were no witnesses, and the security cameras were shut down, as I understand it." He paused before adding, "The report indicated that the case was still open. Do you know why the Jedi were called upon to help?"

Kala glanced back over her shoulder at him, then gave a small shrug. "I couldn't say. It wasn't the sector government who called for the assistance." Quickly, she added, "Though of course we're glad to have it."

There was a moment of contemplative silence before a new voice spoke up. "Maybe they needed Jedi to find the orphans before something happened to them, Master," Anakin suggested. "The police didn't seem to be able to."

It was possible, Obi-Wan agreed. The likelihood that local authorities would be able to recover the missing children after such a long time was very low. Jedi might be at an advantage there, unless it was already too late. There had been no ransom calls, no contact at all from the kidnappers, which gravely concerned Obi-Wan. He was not sure they could do anything at this point, but was determined to do his best.

"Here we are," Miss Sigrid said, stopping in front of a door. She keyed in the entry code and stepped inside, waiting expectantly for the Jedi to follow.

Anakin was quick to, but Obi-Wan remained in the doorway for a moment, getting a first impression of the room from there. It was small with two metal bunk beds against either sidewall. A large white dresser occupied the far wall; the paint on it was chipped in a few places. The floor was covered in inexpensive tiles. Clearly, the money spent on the very visible reception area had not been shared with the orphans' actual living quarters. _Close to the Chancellor's heart indeed, _Obi-Wan mused.

"The police looked over the room, but there was no hint as to who had done this," Kala said. "Thankfully, there was no blood or any signs of great struggle."

Obi-Wan nodded a little absent-mindedly at the comments. "Yes, that was in the report," he said as he gazed around the doorframe, hands still clasped behind his back. His attention stopped at the locks midway up on either side. Gazing at the one on the right, he reached out a hand and ran a finger over the smooth surface.

"Uh," the young woman voiced before clearing her throat a little and going on. "No one has been in here since the police. I'm not sure what you can find…"

"Mmm," Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully, still gazing at the lock. He then stood up, leaned his head out into the corridor and glanced down the empty hallways. He took his time in turning back to Kala. "Tell me, why are none of the children in the halls?"

"We've been running on tight security, since the incident, of course," she replied.

Obi-Wan took a few steps inside, glancing at the bunks as he passed them. He proceeded past Kala to the dresser behind her, causing the young women to step aside. She kept her attention attentively focused on the Jedi. Anakin stood in the corner and observed quietly, not quite sure what to add to Obi-Wan's inquiries. The Jedi master touched one of the chipped areas and scraped away a few flecks of paint. "Were these here before the kidnappings?" When she didn't immediately reply, he glanced up at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

"I can't be sure, Master Kenobi," Miss Sigrid replied.

Obi-Wan turned back to the dresser, making a show of examining it for a few more moments. He could feel unease radiating from the young woman behind him. Straightening up, he turned to face her. "Thank you for your assistance, Miss Sigrid. My padawan and I will contact you if we require any more assistance."

It took a moment for her to register the polite dismissal. She blinked, a little taken aback, but nodded. "Of course," she said, turning to head for the door. "I do hope you can bring the children back safely." As she left the room, Kala closed the door behind her.

Anakin glanced up at Obi-Wan. "Master," he asked, "is there something wrong with the dresser?"

Obi-Wan smiled lightly. "No, padawan, nor with the door. There's no sign of forced entry, which is to be expected. If whoever took the orphans was able to shut off the security cameras, it's likely they deactivated the locks as well. As for the dresser." He leaned over again, pointing to one of the defects. Anakin watched intently. "These cracks around the edges indicate the peeling is part of a natural aging process rather than trauma."

"So," Anakin began slowly, clearly reluctant to show his confusion, "why were you looking at them?"

"Did you notice Miss Sigrid's reaction?" the Jedi Master asked.

Anakin shrugged. "I guess she seemed… confused."

"And," Obi-Wan added, "nervous."

"Nervous? About what?"

The Jedi master shrugged. "The whole situation, perhaps. She did not seem too worried about the orphans, though. Perhaps more so about her job."

"I think she was worried we wouldn't be able to help," Anakin replied.

"That is possible," Obi-Wan conceded. "In any case, I simply wanted to gauge her view on the situation. It's always important to know the position of everyone involved. Miss Sigrid seems to think we are a threat to her job, and appears to know little about the kidnappings. The police report indicates she was on duty at the time." He paused, considering how incompetent that would make her look. Perhaps she had reason to be concerned for her job, especially now that the kidnappings were a more prominent matter with the Jedi getting involved. "Did you notice, padawan, that she referred to the kidnappings as an 'incident'?"

"No, Master," came the boy's dull reply.

It was clear that he was losing interest in this line of conversation. Obi-Wan felt it was important to teach Anakin how to discern the true intentions of individuals, especially those in power with much to lose. But his lecture was cut off by a small, almost inaudible sound. Obi-Wan stopped, and drew on the Force to heighten his hearing- and there was the sound again. "Do you hear that?" he asked his padawan.

Anakin's nose wrinkled up. "Hear what?"

"Shh," Obi-Wan said, holding up a quieting finger. Through the Force, he tried to encourage Anakin's own hearing to become more attuned.

It took the boy a second, but he felt his master's suggestion through the bond and obeyed, concentrating as hard as he could. After a moment, his eyebrows shot up, and he nodded to Obi-Wan. He heard it as well. Slowly, Obi-Wan pointed downward, indicating the space under the bed to their left. Anakin reached for his lightsabre, but a hand on his arm stopped him. _Quietly, _Obi-Wan voiced through the Force, leading the way by creeping over to one end of the bunk. With an unvoiced coordination, Anakin went to the other end, and the two Jedi prepared to move it out of the way and see where the noise was coming from.

Obi-Wan gave a silent count. _One…two…three!_ Simultaneously, the Jedi and his padawan lifted the metal bunk and set it a few feet over to the side- only to find that there was nothing under the bed. With a puzzled look on his face, Anakin leaned over and examined the underside of the bed. Standing back up, he let out a small sigh of frustration and threw his hands out helplessly to the side. There was nothing there, no one.

Obi-Wan did not even bother to check under the bed. He had already sensed the presence they had been seeking out. Calmly, he gestured towards one panel in the wall next to the floor- a square grate, about shoulder's width on each side. Suddenly, it became quite clear to the apprentice where the noise was coming from.

In the quietest voice he could muster, Anakin whispered, "I'll go."

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan replied softly, "No. It's too dangerous." Even as he said it, he removed his cloak and crouched down next to the vent, ready to pull the grate off. He was making it clear that there would be no argument.

Anakin tried hard not to make his sigh too loud. "Fine, but you're going to get stuck," he said, standing back with a sulking expression on his face.

As he turned back to eye the passageway, Obi-Wan could not help but wonder if Anakin weren't right. It would be quite a tight fit, but he would simply have to make it work. Sending Anakin in wasn't an option. He could sense little about the individual in the vent, but it was definitely radiating tension. This, combined with the fact that lurking in a vent was rather suspicious, more than assured Obi-Wan that he could not send his padawan in to investigate. They had no idea what lay behind the grate. "Wait out here," Obi-Wan told the boy. "Be ready." With that, Anakin snapped to attention, the promise of action reigning him back in. At least something could.

The grate over the vent was held in place by four metal screws at each corner. Theoretically, you were intended to use a tool to carefully unscrew them one by one. Obi-Wan knew they did not have time for such delicacy. His movements would have to be swift so as not to alert whoever was in the vent to his presence prematurely. Carefully, the Jedi wiggled his fingertips under the slightly loose top edge of the grate. In one swift move, he tore the metal out of the wall, screws and all, and tossed it aside. Then he shoved himself headfirst into the vent shaft.

Before Obi-Wan's eyes could adjust to the low lighting, he sensed something rocketing towards his head. His right hand shot up to successfully grab the leg of his assailant. Unfortunately, his reflexes got the better of his common sense as he pulled, away from the attack. There was a dull clang as his head smacked into the top of the vent. Obi-Wan let out a grunt, but refused to let go of his attacker's foot, grasping onto it with both hands now.

Unfortunately, this left him unable to stop the other foot that kicked out at him, connecting solidly with his nose. "Arh!" the Jedi exclaimed in a combination of pain and frustration. It took him a second to realise that the mysterious figure had managed to wriggle out of the small shoe Obi-Wan was holding and was now crawling frantically away from him. Not about to let the little demon get away, the Jedi forced himself further into the vent. Ignoring the fact that he felt as though he were being squeezed through a juicer, Obi-Wan made one last lunge forward. This time, he landed on top of the small figure's legs and immediately wrapped his arms around the thin torso.

Much wriggling and crying in protest ensued from the captive, but Obi-Wan would have none of it. With staunch determination, he proceeded to back himself out of the vent. It was a slower process than he would have liked, and all the while he could feel blood dripping down from his nose. When he finally reached the exit, he was aided out by Anakin tugging on his utility belt.

As soon as his upper body had emerged, Obi-Wan stood up, his arms still wrapped firmly around a small, squirming boy. Frantically, the child attempted to kick the Jedi in the shins. Fortunately, Obi-Wan's boots thwarted the blow, though the boy packed an incredibly power in his small legs. Obi-Wan's bleeding nose was testament to that. A few drops had landed on the lad's shirt, but somehow the Jedi didn't feel very sorry for him.

Anakin stepped forward to help restrain the boy, but Obi-Wan quickly shook his head. He took a deep breath and sent calming waves through the Force towards the dark-haired boy in his arms. After a second, the struggling stopped, and Obi-Wan slowly released the child. When the boy stood still, the Jedi raised a hand to his nose and used the Force to clot the bleeding. It was still sore, but at least it wouldn't be dripping all over the floor anymore. Glancing around the room now with the grate torn off the vent, his cloak tossed aside, and droplets of blood on the floor, Obi-Wan decided this is more what it should have looked like had the kidnappers struggled with any of the orphans. Unfortunately, he also realised that with the crime scene now tainted, the credibility of any evidence gathered there would be jeopardised.

The orphan in front of Obi-Wan swayed, and for a second the Jedi thought the boy might fall over. Soon, however, the child snapped back into awareness and immediately bolted for the door. Anakin was quick to step in front of him, effectively blocking the younger boy's path. Undaunted, the small orphan balled up a fist and lashed out at Anakin's stomach. But the Jedi padawan's fighting skills had excelled far beyond the days of getting in scuffles in Mos Espa. He easily sensed the strike and blocked it, grabbing the orphan by the wrist. "I'd stop if I were you," Anakin admonished, his voice laced with annoyance. "Don't think I can't beat you any day."

"Padawan," Obi-Wan cut in sternly. The look he gave his apprentice showed he understood Anakin's frustration with the child, but fighting would not solve anything. Reluctantly, Anakin let his captive free.

The boy immediately back-pedalled a few steps, then turned around to face Obi-Wan. "Who are you?" he demanded, his body still taught, ready to lash out again.

Obi-Wan raised both hands to shoulder level in a gesture of good will. "We do not intend to hurt you," he assured the child. "We are here to help."

"We're Jedi," Anakin added.

The orphan looked at the padawan, noting his braid and manner of dress. He turned back to Obi-Wan and saw the same. His muscles relaxed a little, but his dark almond-shaped eyes narrowed to thin lines in suspicion. "Who says I need help from Jedi?"

For one so young, this child certainly fostered quite a bit of hostility. Obi-Wan guessed the orphan to be no older than 9. "We aren't here to help you," he replied. "We are investigating the disappearance of the boys who lived in this room." That seemed to soften up the child's harsh gaze a little. Slowly, Obi-Wan added, "Do you know them?"

The boy nodded. "I come in here almost every night to talk to them. Mistress Sigrid hates when I sneak out. She doesn't catch me much," he added proudly.

Immediately, Obi-Wan realised the implications of that. If the boy had sneaked in on the night of the kidnappings, he could have seen everything. "Did you try to see your friends the night they were kidnapped?" Obi-Wan asked. The boy only shrugged warily in response. Obi-Wan knew the child couldn't have already been in the room with the other boys, or he would have been taken as well. Besides, the grate had been in place, which meant it couldn't have been moved that night. He doubted the kidnappers would have taken the time to find a tool and replace it had it been undone. But Obi-Wan felt a great reluctance from the orphan to open up about anything at the moment. Instead, he decided to try simply to soothe the boy first. "We should introduce ourselves. I'm Obi-Wan, and this is my padawan, Anakin."

"Obi-Wan," the boy replied thoughtfully. "That's a cool name. My real name's stupid."

"What name do you prefer to go by, then?" The Jedi asked.

"Everyone calls me Filch," the boy replied.

It was not exactly the most glowing title one could have bestowed upon him, but Filch seemed proud of his nickname nonetheless. "Filch," Obi-Wan said seriously, "if you know anything that could help your friends, you should tell us." The boy replied with yet another noncommittal shrug. It seemed as though the boy knew something, but Obi-Wan felt he would have to coax it out of the boy. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. "Are you hungry?" he asked a little slyly.

Filch wrinkled his nose. "I hate the food we have here."

"We could take you to a restaurant if you'd like something to eat," Obi-Wan replied, not missing a beat.

Immediately, the boy's thin eyebrows shot up and his whole mood brightened. "Really?" he asked. "I'm hungry," he said as he turned to lead the way out the door.

Obi-Wan stopped the boy with a hand on his shoulder. "You should change your shirt first," he pointed out the red stains.

Filch glanced at his shirt, then disdainfully up at Obi-Wan. "You bled on me!" he exclaimed, as though it were Obi-Wan's fault. The Jedi tried his best to mask his annoyance. "Ok, but then we go eat," the boy insisted.

"Of course," Obi-Wan replied. He directed his next comment at his apprentice. "Padawan, are you hungry?"

"Sure," Anakin replied with a shrug, trying to look nonchalant about it.

Obi-Wan could see right through the adolescent's façade. The boy had been going through a growth spurt lately, eating everything in sight it seemed. The Jedi held back a smile. "Well then, let's go find out where we can eat near here."

Obi-Wan had intended to ask Kala for permission to take Filch with them to dinner as well as to inquire about a place to eat, but she was no longer in the reception area when they reached it. He supposed they could go anyway; they were, after all, Jedi, and commissioned on a higher authority than any local Minister. His sense of etiquette forbade him to simply take out without telling anyone where he was going, however. It would be especially bad if one of the workers were to discover Filch had gone missing and didn't know he was with the Jedi. But as Obi-Wan glanced around the reception area, he saw no one to inform. Both Anakin and Filch stood a few steps behind him, anxious to get to dinner.

Suddenly, a small blur bumped into Obi-Wan's legs, quickly reversed direction, and began scrambling away. "Oh, grab her!" a voice called from somewhere down the hall. For a moment, the Jedi was a little stunned. Then his senses returned to him and Obi-Wan spotted a small girl headed purposefully towards the door. With a few steps, he had caught up to her and scooped the orphan up in his arms. Almost immediately, he was assaulted with a hail of fists and a loud shrieking noise. The Jedi Master instinctively held the child out of reach of his injured nose.

"Goodness, Myra!" the stout middle-aged woman who had been chasing the girl said in a huff. She held out her arms and waved for Obi-Wan to hand the child over. "Is that any way to behave towards strangers?" the woman asked the toddler in a lightly reprimanding tone. The orphan glanced at Obi-Wan, then wordlessly buried her head in the woman's shoulder. "Dear me, what has gotten into you?" She looked up at Obi-Wan, lifting one eyebrow in jest. "Do you always have this effect on women?" she asked.

"It has been known to happen," he replied.

The grey-haired woman studied him, then let out a chuckle. "I doubt that, darling," she said with a sly smile. It took her another moment for her mind to process his full appearance and that of the crop-haired boy next to him, who was trying unsuccessfully to suppress a grin at the situation. When she did, the woman's cheeks flushed slightly in chagrin. "Oh, you're the Jedi, aren't you?" Shifting the child to her left hip, she extended her right hand. "I'm Chai Katadoni."

Obi-Wan shook her hand, then her name registered in his brain. "Katadoni. So this is your orphanage?"

"Well, technically no, now that we receive aid from the government. But I did establish it and still run it."

"And Miss Sigrid oversees officially?" Obi-Wan asked.

"For most the day, anyway," she replied. "As you can see, she's already gone home for this evening"

"Perhaps you can be of assistance, then. I was hoping to find somewhere nearby to eat. We would like to bring Filch here along with us as well," he paused subtly, "to help us with something."

"Filch?" Misses Katadoni craned her neck in the direction Obi-Wan had indicated, seeming puzzled. The Jedi turned around to see that the orphan had managed to hide himself behind Anakin in hopes of avoiding being seen. His expression urged Anakin to step aside, leaving the boy where the woman could see him. "Trogdus, you haven't been pestering the Jedi, have you?"

The boy's nose wrinkled up tightly. "I _hate _that name," he said in disgust.

Obi-Wan could sense Anakin's amusement starting to get the better of him. He sent his padawan a light warning through the Force. It was a dreadful name, but commenting on it certainly wasn't going to help. Obi-Wan was in no mood to deal with an aggravated Filch again. Quickly, he averted the subject. "He's been no trouble, milady," the Jedi insisted, though it was far from true. "I hope it would be all right for him to come with us, just for a while."

Misses Katadoni seemed to catch Obi-Wan's intention, and nodded. "Of course you may. There's a little diner just three blocks east of here. They should still be open."

Obi-Wan and Anakin bowed politely. "Thank you," Obi-Wan said before turning to lead the two boys out into the hangar. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Misses Katadoni waving and heading back down the hall with the toddler in her arms.

"Which one?" Anakin asked as he eyed the row of speeders parked along the edge of the hangar.

Obi-Wan pulled out his datapad and brought up the image of the speeder the Chancellor had requisitioned for them. He deliberately did not show it to Anakin, though, knowing the boy would simply rush ahead and jump right into the pilot's seat. With Filch riding along, he wasn't sure he wanted Anakin flying. Instead, he made a vague motion down the line and made his way towards an enclosed, obsidian speeder.

"Woah," Filch said as he circled the vehicle. "Pretty nice. Can I fly it?"

Obi-Wan gave the boy an incredulous look. "No," he replied definitely. Extending his right hand, he pressed his palm against the lock and waited for the door to open. Instead, the device flashed red, denying entry. He tried again, but again the craft denied him entry. "That's odd," Obi-Wan said with a frown.

"Here, let me try," Anakin said, stepping forward and placing his palm on the unit. To Obi-Wan's surprise, the lock turned green and slid open. The padawan lifted the door and climbed into the pilot's seat, shooting his master a grin through the transparasteel window. It seemed the rental had been programmed to open only for the boy. This unsettled Obi-Wan somewhat, but he decided it was better to let Anakin have his little moment of pride right now than to make an issue of it.

Obi-Wan circled around the front passenger's side and was about to get in when he saw that Filch had already taken the seat. How he had managed to sneak in so quickly, Obi-Wan didn't know. But there he was, settled in and grinning mischievously up at the Jedi. Sighing, Obi-Wan lifted the back door and crawled to the middle of the somewhat cramped back seat. "Anakin, please fly slowly. It's only three blocks," he pleaded as his padawan started the engine and backed out of the hangar.

"I will, Master," Anakin replied in his most assuring tone, which somehow only made Obi-Wan more uneasy.

"Why does _he _get to fly?" Filch asked.

"Because I can reach the accelerator," Anakin snapped.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan chided. He knew there was almost nothing that could annoy his padawan more than someone questioning his flying skills. Anakin had been flying for years and was more than capable.

Instead of responding verbally, Anakin accelerated the craft and darted around a slower speeder ahead of him. He glanced at Filch, who simply sneered and looked away. Obi-Wan snapped his safety restraint into place. Not about to back down, the padawan flew the rest of the short distance in the same manner. He circled the restaurant before gliding into a landing space at full speed. The screeching stop jerked the passenger's forward.

Obi-Wan let out a groan as he slammed into his restraint before being jerked back against the seat. "Might it be possible," he asked slowly as they all got out, "to fly somewhere without incurring injury?"

The padawan gave him an innocent look and a shrug. "I'm not hurt, Master."

"Maybe you shouldn't complain so much," Filch suggested, a snide expression on his face.

_What have I done to deserve this? _Obi-Wan silently asked the Force. When there was no immediate response, he assumed the Force must be in on it as well. Obi-Wan folded his arms and let his face become slightly more stern than he had intended for it to. "If either of you wish to eat, he would do well to remember that I have all of the credits."

Neither boy looked happy with the ultimatum, but both fell silent, which was enough for Obi-Wan. The Jedi Master silently strode into the diner with both boys in tow. A quick survey of the establishment revealed it to be every bit as small as it appeared to be on the outside. The bar stools and booth seats were covered in a bright red semi-plastic material that spoke volumes about the caliber of the establishment. There was only one patron- a well dressed young man sitting in the booth closest to the door and sipping a drink quietly. Obi-Wan wondered if the lack of customers was due to the late hour or the quality of the food. But it would do no use complaining; they were here now and they weren't going anyplace else.

A slender droid wheeled over to meet the newcomers. "Booth or counter?" she asked in a tone that passed for boredom in a droid.

"A booth, please," Obi-Wan replied.

"This way," the waitress droid directed lazily as she wheeled over to one of the open booths. "You want a cup of Jawa Juice?" she asked Obi-Wan as he took a seat.

"Jawa Juice," Obi-Wan stated questioningly.

"Dex's famous recipe," the droid explained shortly.

"Is that made with Jawas?" Anakin asked, his eyebrows rising in slight horror.

"The recipe," the droid replied, "is private. What'll you have?"

A glance at the empty table assured Obi-Wan that there were no menus to be found. He exchanged looks with Anakin, who seemed equally baffled. Clearly this was not an establishment that welcomed newcomers with open arms. "What would you suggest?" the Jedi asked a little hesitantly.

"Sliders are the house special," the waitress replied.

Seeing that the droid was not going to offer any further suggestions, Obi-Wan gave in. "Then I'll have that, thank you." He was determined to keep his manners, despite the droid's crass attitude.

Anakin seemed to understand his master's desire to be emulated. He smiled politely as he replied, "For me too." Then he looked down at the boy beside him, trying to send him a look that demanded cooperation.

Filch, however, seemed in no mood to comply. "I want a dessert," he stated plainly. "Whatever's biggest."

Obi-Wan was half-ready to comply with the orphan's demand. Reprimanding the boy would hardly be conducive to coaxing him into revealing whatever information he might posses about the case. His padawan seemed to sense his reluctance to interfere, and shot him an incredulous look. Of course, it was not Anakin's place to decide, but in this instance his opinion happened to coincide with Obi-Wan's better adult instincts. "No, he'll have the special as well." Filch shot him a dirty look, but the Jedi refused to be intimidated, and the boy sank down into his seat.

Without a word, the waitress droid wheeled away, presumably to fill their order. An uncomfortable silence settled over the table as Filch continued to pout. Whatever information he might have about the kidnappings, he certainly seemed in no mood to share it right now. After a moment, the boy stepped out of the booth. "I gotta go to the bathroom," he muttered as he walked away.

Anakin watched over his shoulder as the boy disappeared into the back door leading to the restroom, then turned back to Obi-Wan. "Should I go with him, Master?" he asked.

"No, Anakin. I'm quite sure he can handle it himself," Obi-Wan replied.

The padawan sighed irritably. "I mean what if he tries to run away or something?"

"I suppose we'll have to chase him." Obi-Wan had considered such a possibility himself, but assumed the child would calm himself down eventually. He had learned that children were often subject to quickly changing moods.

"Why won't he just tell us what he saw?" Anakin asked, tapping his fingers anxiously on the tabletop.

"In good time, I'm sure he will," Obi-Wan assured him. "I know it's difficult, but you must try and be patient with him, padawan. He may not have even seen anything at all. We shall see." He was sure that three years ago he would not have dealt with the situation quite as patiently. Despite all he had learned through training Anakin, however, it was still a test of his character not to lose his wits around children.

"We don't have all the time in the galaxy, though, Master," Anakin retorted earnestly. "What if it's already too late to save the orphans who were taken?"

"We shall do our best, padawan," Obi-Wan said quietly, his expression conveying his seriousness. He hesitated before continuing. Perhaps this was not the right time for a lecture, but he felt the need to take advantage of learning situations when they presented themselves. "Anakin, as Jedi it is our duty to do everything in our power to help those in need. But we have our limitations. Which means sometimes we will fail. It is hard, but it is also something we must accept as a reality."

The boy fell silent, but his demeanour suggested he was not accepting the reality very well. Obi-Wan knew from experience that Anakin was not comfortable with the idea of failure. Neither was Obi-Wan, in truth, but he did his best to convey the proper attitude on the subject anyway.

Suddenly, the noise of what sounded like a tray clattering to the ground disrupted the quiet of the diner. A deep voice shouted in shock from somewhere back in the kitchen. Then a hulking humanoid alien entered behind the counter, dragging a struggling Filch with one of his sets of arms.

"Let go a me!" the boy squirmed, but was unable to free himself from the stout alien's grasp.

"This belong to you?" the shabbily dressed alien asked Obi-Wan.

_Give him an inch and he takes a parsec, _the Jedi thought with an internal groan. He flushed slightly in a mixture of anger and embarrassment as he immediately got up and went to Filch. "I'm terribly sorry," Obi-Wan apologized.

"Thought he could sneak some free desserts from the kitchen," the alien replied in a gruff tone.

"But he was-" Filch's protest stopped when Obi-Wan jerked him away, back towards the booth where Anakin was still seated.

The Jedi Master crouched in front of the boy. He reminded himself of his words to Anakin on patience, but was also reminded that in practice it was not always easy. As he searched for the proper words to say to the orphan, he took a deep breath to calm himself. It helped, but Obi-Wan didn't quite trust himself to say anything proper just yet. Instead, he simply pointed sharply to the seat next to Anakin, assuming the severity of his manner would speak for itself. It seemed to. Filch scrambled away towards the booth as quickly as possible.

Anakin gave Obi-Wan an understanding look as the Jedi Master slowly stood. "I'll watch him," the padawan insisted seriously.

Obi-Wan gave the boy a grateful nod before turning back to the disgruntled alien. "My sincerest apologies," he began, then stopped out of curiosity. The moustached Besalisk looked somewhat familiar, but not in this setting.

A similar expression of recognition settled onto the alien's face as he studied the Jedi more closely. Then he asked, with hesitation, "Obi-Wan?"

"Dex!" he replied before being suddenly enveloped in a crushing hug. The Jedi smiled as his old friend pulled away.

"Wow, I almost didn't recognize you. You look different without the braid," a hint of a chuckle crept into Dex's voice.

"I do suppose I've changed." Obi-Wan realised it had been over four years since he'd seen the former smuggler. They had known each other longer, ever since meeting on a mission Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had taken to Dex's homeworld almost a decade before. The smuggler had been a valuable source of information on several occasions since then and had become a good friend. "And you, how did you end up in a Coruscant diner?" he asked inquisitively.

"Ah well, dealing in weaponry is a business for the young. Now I deal in seasonings and drinks. I own this place now." His brow lifted as a thought occurred to him. "That reminds me, you had the Jawa Juice yet?"

"Your secret recipe?" Obi-Wan asked with a sly smile. He glanced back at the table where Anakin and Filch sat. His tone became a little more formal. "Tempting, but not at the moment. I'm on a mission right now, investigating the disappearance of several children from an orphanage nearby a few days ago. The boy you caught may have witnessed their kidnappings."

"Oh, I see," Dex replied with a nod. "Looks like you've got your work cut out for you."

"Yes, so it would seem."

"And I see you've got an apprentice of your own now, too," Dex observed. "When did this happen?"

"Three years ago," Obi-Wan replied. He paused, considering if he should clarify any further, then decided that his friend deserved to know more. "Since just after I was knighted…when Qui-Gon was killed."

The burly alien's cheery face sank into an expression of sadness. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that," he said sincerely. "He was a damn good man."

"Yes." Obi-Wan did not want to dwell on the subject too long. Even after three years, he still missed his old master deeply. But he couldn't afford to let it distract him from his duties. "Anyway, I was attempting to persuade our witness to give us his account. But obviously that isn't going very well."

"I heard about that kidnapping," Dex mused. "Didn't figure they'd bring in any Jedi to look into it. But there is a re-election coming up, and I'm sure Governor Lamont wanted to make a good impression." He let out a derisive laugh.

"Is he?" Obi-Wan pondered the information for a moment. "Well, I certainly wouldn't put it beyond a governor to do something like that. However, my concern is with the kidnappings, not any politics motivating the investigation."

Before Dex could reply, Anakin rushed over to the two adults. Obi-Wan raised a questioning eyebrow as he glanced down at his padawan. "Aren't you supposed to be watching Filch?" he asked suggestively.

"Yes, Master, but he-"

"I feel we've already had this discussion tonight, padawan," Obi-Wan chided. "Do your best to have patience with him." He turned back to Dex to continue their conversation.

"But Master," Anakin continued. Slowly Obi-Wan turned his head down to look at the boy, his own supply of patience for the day running low. The padawan did not back down, however. His face was flushed red with urgency and annoyance. "We just saw Miss Sigrid. She left with the man by the door. _Really _fast."

Obi-Wan's interest was immediately piqued. He glanced at the now empty booth by the door then back to his padawan. "When?" he asked, trying to make sense of the news.

"Just now," Anakin replied. "I bet we can catch them before they leave if we hurry."

"Catch them?" Obi-Wan asked. "I hardly think visiting a diner is an offence worthy of arrest, padawan." Slowly, he turned his eyes to Filch, who was sitting at the table. "Unless there is some other reason to suspect her of something." The boy looked away, swinging his legs nervously. Obi-Wan made his way over to the booth and sat down across from the orphan, staring at him steadily. "Filch," he said in an even tone, "does this have to do with the kidnappings?"

"I've always hated Miss Sigrid," the boy replied sourly. "She always got mad at me. And she never let me have enough dessert."

Obi-Wan could imagine a reason or two why someone would become angry with the aspiring thief, but kept those thoughts to himself. Instead, he kept pressing the point. "And this has nothing to do with the night of the kidnappings?" The boy shrugged almost imperceptibly, his eyes on the tabletop. Obi-Wan leaned in a little. He hoped he wouldn't have to use a mind trick to get Filch to open up, but at this point he was considering it. But he would try normal persuasion one last time. "Filch, anything you know or saw might be able to help us find out where your friends are and bring them back safely."

The boy looked up at the Jedi from under shaggy dark hair, then looked down again. "I don't know. I heard my friends yelling when I got there and there were some aliens dragging them away."

"What kind of aliens?" Obi-Wan asked. Now Anakin had seated himself beside his master and was quietly observing the questioning.

"I don't know what they're called. The ones with skin like leather and the smooshed faces." When it was clear Obi-Wan was still puzzled, Filch went on. "And, um, little horns around their faces."

"Nikto?" the Jedi offered.

"Yeah. I think it was them."

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully. It was well known that many Nikto were involved in the galaxy's less than legal operations- smuggling, illegal gambling… and slavery. Obi-Wan had considered from the beginning of the investigation that this may have been the motive for the kidnappings. He was not certain if it was better or worse than the other possibilities. At least it would mean the children were most likely still alive.

Anakin sensed Obi-Wan's state of contemplation. "What is it, Master?" he asked eagerly.

The young man glanced over at the boy. He considered sharing his thoughts with Anakin, but decided against it. It was better not to jump to any conclusions. Besides, the idea that they might be looking for slavers would undoubtedly have a personal impact on the padawan. "Nothing," Obi-Wan replied with a slight wave of his hand. He turned back to Filch. "So you saw the Nikto dragging your friends away. And after that?"

"I went back to my room and then to go tell someone," Filch said. "I saw Miss Sigrid behind the desk. But I didn't want to tell _her_ about it."

"And why was that?"

"I told you, she's mean to me. She would have just told me to go back to bed. I probably woulda been in trouble, too," Filch retorted. "So I went to find one of the other adults to tell. But then the alarm went off so I knew the police would come and I went back to bed."

Obi-Wan searched for any measure of deceptiveness in the boy, but could find none. So there seemed to be no real reason to be suspicious of Kala after all. Still, it might be useful to find out a little more about her visits to the diner, just for the sake of having a clearer picture of everything. But Obi-Wan wanted to have a word with Dex about it alone. He didn't want Anakin jumping to any more conclusions. "I'm going to go see about our food," Obi-Wan said, indicating that Anakin should let him out of the booth. The boy complied and Obi-Wan made his way back to the counter where Dex stood. He nodded wordlessly towards the kitchen and the two made their way back to the more private room.

The waitress droid nearly wheeled straight into Obi-Wan. She barely managed not to drop her tray full of food. "Hey, watch where you're going, mister!" she exclaimed exasperatedly.

"My apologies," Obi-Wan replied, but the droid seemed unimpressed with his politeness and wheeled away wordlessly.

"Sorry about that," Dex said. "I've been meaning to get a new droid for a while now. Had a lot of complaints about that one. But we didn't come back here to talk about droids, did we?"

"No," Obi-Wan said, smiling at his old friend's perceptiveness. Nothing slid past Dex. "I was wondering about the man who was sitting by the door. Does he come here regularly?"

Dex nodded. "For the last couple of nights he has. I'd say about a week now."

"Has he ever acted suspicious?"

"Hmm. No, not particularly. But he only orders drinks and he always meets up with that young woman like he did tonight."

"Do they usually leave that quickly?"

"They usually stay for a few drinks first," Dex said.

Obi-Wan considered the implications of that, and had to admit that it seemed Kala had only left because she saw Obi-Wan and the boys. But perhaps she simply did not wish to be bothered outside of work. She had seemed rather worried about the possibility of losing her job over the kidnappings earlier. She probably didn't want to think about it too much. "Well, that hardly seems suspicious," Obi-Wan concluded slowly.

Dex nodded as he reached for a tall glass and began filling it with a thick substance from a nozzle against the wall. "Not exactly. But they do seem out of place here," he said.

"Why is that?"

"Most people around here are regular working class, with jobs in one of the factories nearby. But you can tell by the way those two dress that they have more money than that. They're more upper class." He stopped filling the glass and turned back to face Obi-Wan. "In my experience, people like that come to places like this when they don't want to be seen."

It was an astute observation, one that only a local would have been able to make. Obi-Wan had learned to trust Dex's word, but was still wary of drawing any connections that didn't exist. So far, he had no proof that Kala was involved in the kidnappings at all. In fact, she had been the one to pull the alarm. "That may be the case," he said, "however, she also works at the orphanage. Perhaps she wanted to go somewhere nearby. Still, it's something to keep in mind."

"Here," Dex said, handing the cold glass to Obi-Wan. "A free dessert for the bandit." He let out a guttural chuckle. "Between those two, I'd say this is a job cut out for a Jedi."

Obi-Wan grinned wryly. "One is usually enough. Thank you." He indicated the drink. "I'm sure he'll be glad to have this." He turned and headed back into the main room, with Dex following but stopping behind the counter.

Filch's eyes lit up when he saw Obi-Wan carrying the frozen dessert. Anakin was too occupied inhaling his own plate of food to notice his master's re-entry. Obi-Wan handed the glass to Filch. "For helping with our investigation," he explained. Filch didn't seem to care why he was being given something full of sugar, only that he was. Without a word, he grabbed his spoon and dug in. "You're welcome," the Jedi commented under his breath.

Picking up his fork and knife, Obi-Wan began tentatively sawing into what he assumed were the sliders on his plate. The reddish looking slab appeared to be something in between a meat and a vegetable. He decided not to think about what it was and simply swallowed. To his surprise, it didn't taste all that bad.

Anakin finished his meal and took a long gulp of water from his cup. He sat in silence only a few moments before speaking. "Master, I was wondering about something."

"Mmm?" Obi-Wan hummed a bit distractedly, his eyes still on his food.

His padawan continued nonetheless. "Well, Misses Katadoni told us that Miss Sigrid goes home in the evening. But the kidnappings were at night, so… why was she there?"

Obi-Wan paused momentarily, a bite of food raised nearly to his mouth. Why had that thought not occurred to him? Shrugging slowly, he put the bite in his mouth and began to chew, thinking as he did. Anakin looked very eager to hear his explanation. Now if only Obi-Wan had one. "Well," he said once he had swallowed, "it does seem unusual, but perhaps not unheard of. I'm not sure," he said, a frown creasing his forehead. He hated not having an answer to one of Anakin's questions. "That's something we'll have to keep in mind," he concluded.

Having finished his dessert, Filch sat quietly, picking at the edge of the table. It seemed as though he wanted to say something, but was not sure how to do it. Obi-Wan raised a questioning eyebrow at the boy. "I was wondering," the boy started, "…you weren't going to make me go back to the orphanage tonight, were you?"

At first it seemed like a very odd question to Obi-Wan. Why shouldn't they take Filch back to the orphanage? But as he studied the boy more closely, it was clear that he was genuinely distressed at the thought. "Well," the Jedi replied slowly, "I suppose our hotel should have quite enough room for the three of us." Anakin looked at him in slight surprise. "I'll have to send a message to Misses Katadoni about it, but I don't see what harm it could be." _Except perhaps to my own health, _he thought belatedly. But the offer was as good as made now.

"So I can stay with you?" Filch asked with a smile. "Cool!"

"Yes, well," Obi-Wan said as he stood. "We'd better be going."

"I'll start the speeder," Anakin said, jumping up from his seat eagerly. Filch followed him on his way out the door, no doubt wanting to procure the front seat again.

Obi-Wan let out an exasperated sigh as he watched the energetic boys leave. Dex's laughed his distinctive, knowing laugh. "I never figured you for a nanny," the big alien said, mischief glimmering in his big eyes.

The Jedi only had the energy to shrug with his eyebrows. "It's certainly been interesting," he agreed. Reaching into a pouch, he pulled out a credit chip.

Dex waved him away. "It's all on the house this time, buddy."

"Thank you."

"Maybe it'll be an incentive for you to come back sometime soon. You still have to try the Jawa Juice," Dex insisted.

Obi-Wan nodded, replying a little distantly, "I will, when time allows." He had learned all too well that commitments to old friends were hard to keep these days. Suddenly, he found himself taken off guard as Dex enveloped him in an amicable hug.

"It's good to see you again, Obi-Wan," he said as the two parted.

"And you as well," the Jedi replied. He knew there was more to say, more to catch up on, memories to recall. But other responsibilities called. Obi-Wan settled for a nod instead, knowing his friend would understand. He turned towards the door and headed outside to the speeder.

As Obi-Wan had expected, the hotel room Palpatine had reserved for them was in a nicer area than the orphanage. It was up one city level and near to the local sector's government offices. The hotel looked spectacular on the outside and was equally matched by the splendour of their suite. Even before Obi-Wan opened the door, he could guess how large and luxurious it would be. First sight of its shining dark wood floors and spacious rooms made both the boys stop in their tracks. The sitting room was large and equipped with a full entertainment system. At the other end of the room was a kitchenette complete with a cooler, appliances, and a table with a white marble top.

"This is where we're staying?" Filch asked, his eyes wide with astonishment.

Anakin smiled as he entered the room. "Chancellor Palpatine got us this room," he replied with a touch of pride in his voice.

Filch followed along, asking only half curiously, "Who?"

Anakin stopped his examination of the main room and stared back at the orphan a little blankly. "Who?" he asked incredulously. "He's the leader of the Republic. He gives your orphanage money!"

"Never heard of him," the boy responded with a nonchalant shrug, plopping himself down on a leather couch in front of a large holovid screen. He quickly located the controller, turned it on, and started flipping through the channels.

Anakin turned a flabbergasted expression towards Obi-Wan. Rather than providing sympathy, the Jedi Master couldn't help but grin at the orphan's blasé attitude towards the Chancellor. It was evidence of the fact that some people would simply never be impressed by grandeur. The Jedi simply raised one eyebrow at his padawan, then set about unpacking some things from his bag. He quietly laid them out one by one on the polished table.

Reading his master's expression and mood, Anakin realised he was alone in his opinion on the matter. He balled his fists, then released the tension and flopped onto the couch next to Filch, dropping his pack on the floor with a sigh. "What is this?" he asked in an irritated tone, indicating the cartoon playing on the holovid.

"It's a show that _I _wanna watch," Filch replied, purposefully shifting the controller to his hand furthest from Anakin.

The padawan looked at the younger boy for a moment, then settled into the couch and turned his attention back to the screen. As soon as Filch had relaxed his grip on the controller, it flew up out of his hands and into Anakin's.

"Hey! How'd you do that?" Filch asked in astonishment.

Anakin tried to shrug casually, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. "It's a Jedi power," he replied, changing the channel.

But the trick had not escaped his master's notice, and the padawan soon found his view of the screen obscured by a very stern looking Obi-Wan. "Which are to be used for?" he asked evenly.

The boy's eyes went to the floor. "Important matters only," he mumbled.

"Which does not include squabbling," Obi-Wan replied, snatching the controller away and handing it back to Filch.

"Yes, Master," Anakin replied, chagrined.

Obi-Wan had no doubt the boy knew such basic tenets of the Force- he had taught them himself. Yet Obi-Wan knew very well that knowledge was useless unless put into practice, which was something Anakin seemed to have difficulty with at times. And this mission was an important test for both of them. Wasting energy on the trivial now would only be counterproductive. "Bring your things over here," Obi-Wan instructed, stepping over towards the table.

Anakin slowly picked up his bag from off the ground and followed, knowing better than to ask why.

Obi-Wan pulled out a chair and waved Anakin to the seat. "I believe," the Jedi Master intoned meaningfully, "that you have some work to do." He took a seat at the other end of the table and opened his datapad. "As do I." Detaching the stylus from the side of the small computer, he began writing on the input screen.

Without a word, Anakin removed his own datapad and began his work, although begrudgingly. The boy had but a small amount of love for academics. Though the issue had never been brought up directly, Obi-Wan gathered that whatever basic reading and arithmetic skills Anakin had learned on Tatooine had been taught to him by his mother. And by nature he was not one to enjoy sitting still for long periods of time. Obi-Wan had hoped the one on one Force training he had insisted on instead for his padawan would have eased him into the learning mode. As it turned out, it hadn't. As soon as Anakin had begun his academic courses, new problems had arisen between him and both instructors and fellow students. His padawan's poor learning habits were something Obi-Wan was working hard to correct.

For a few minutes, both worked in relative silence. They weren't talking, but Filch had the holovid on rather loudly. Obi-Wan was able to tune it out fairly easily. For Anakin, it was just another distraction he didn't need. Obi-Wan could sense his padawan's restlessness as he attempted to focus on his work. The Jedi Master glanced up from his work without lifting his head.

Anakin was staring back at him with a frustrated look on his face. "I hate this physics stuff. You can't teach someone to be a pilot, it's a talent you're born with."

Obi-Wan's eyes fell back to his work. Clearly Anakin was just in another one of his venting moods. There was nothing to be done about it. Were Obi-Wan to respond, he would simply be feeding the boy's apparent need for argument. Instead, his silence put an end to the discussion before it began.

Shut down once again by his master's indifference to his complaints, Anakin stabbed idly at his input screen. Then with a huff, he set the datapad down on the table, then eyed Obi-Wan. "What are you doing?"

"Starting a report," the Jedi Master replied without looking up. He had kept reports during the other missions he and Anakin had been on, as was customary. However, those missions had all been standard low risk protection jobs with little activity. "With investigations, it's especially important to record everything you learn so you always have access to any possible clues."

Obi-Wan could sense Anakin's interest piquing a little. "Don't forget the part about Miss Sigrid being there at night when she wasn't supposed to be," the boy commented. It was clear by his tone that he was very proud of himself for picking up on that.

"It's there, padawan," Obi-Wan assured him.

Rather than returning to his class work, Anakin glanced over at the holovid. "Whatis _that_?" he asked of the programme Filch was watching.

The small boy twisted around in his seat to look at Anakin. "You've never seen_ Extreme Duel_?" he asked.

"No," Anakin replied, a little curious as he observed the battling contestants on the screen.

"It's the best show! Two guys fight with different weapons until one gets knocked out. I get to see it sometimes but never on such a big screen," Filch replied excitedly.

"Well I don't need to watch that. At the temple, we have practice lightsabre duels all the time," Anakin boasted.

Filch's eyes grew wide. "You have your own lightsabre? Can I see it?"

"No," Obi-Wan cut in sharply. "A Jedi's lightsabre is not a toy to show off. It's an extension of the Jedi himself and a symbol of his commitment."

"I know, master," Anakin insisted. "But you have to know how to use it, too." To Filch, he said, "Master Obi-Wan is the best swordsman in the Order."

"Is that true?" Filch asked Obi-Wan.

The Jedi Master paused a moment before replying, "It's not important." He set his datapad on the table and stood. "Now, it's rather late. Shouldn't you be getting to bed, Filch?"

"I'm not tired," the boy insisted, turning back to the holovid.

"Aren't you?" Obi-Wan asked, taking a step closer.

"Nope," Filch replied confidently, staring straight ahead at the screen.

Slowly, Obi-Wan crouched down behind the couch, resting one hand on the back and waving the other slightly. "You want to sleep," he said, enunciating methodically.

"I want to sleep," Filch replied in a subdued tone.

"Because you're very tired," Obi-Wan added.

"I'm very tired," the boy agreed lazily.

Carefully, Obi-Wan slid the controller from the orphan's hand and turned the holovid off. He stood and placed a hand between Filch's shoulder blades. "Come along, then." The boy nodded slowly as he stood up and allowed the Jedi to guide him in the direction of the bedrooms. Obi-Wan opened the first door and saw that the room was relatively small. It must have been the one intended for Anakin to stay in.

Deciding it would be cruel to force the underprivileged orphan to sleep on a couch, he led Filch into the room. Some dark blue sleep clothes were neatly folded and resting on the foot of the bed. Obi-Wan guessed they were intended for Anakin, but he had brought his own sleeping garments with him. They would be too big for Filch, but they'd have to do. "Here," he said, handing the clothes to the boy. "Change into these then get to sleep. It's nearly midnight."

"Okay," Filch replied and began ever so slowly removing his shirt. Satisfied that the boy would be causing him no more troubles for the night, Obi-Wan left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Does that count as an 'important matter', Master?" Anakin asked curiously.

Obi-Wan shot the boy a meaningful look. "Leave the judgments to me, padawan," he replied. "You should be getting ready for bed as well."

"What are we going to do tomorrow?" Anakin asked, leaning forward, waiting anxiously to hear the answer.

"I would like to start by speaking with Miss Sigrid again. After that, we'll see where our investigation takes us, if anywhere."

Anakin paused thoughtfully. "Do you think we'll be able to find the orphans who were kidnapped?" he asked.

"I hope so," Obi-Wan replied genuinely. He thought once again about the possibility that the orphans were taken by slavers. If that were the case, getting them back might prove very difficult. "But it could be dangerous."

Anakin shrugged. "That's ok. I mean, we haven't had any dangerous missions yet. I'm kind of ready for one. You know, because we're going to have them sometime and I have to practice." He considered his next question a moment before asking it. "Do you think I'll ever have to be in a lightsabre fight like you were?"

"Lightsabres are primarily used to deflect blaster bolts or disable enemies. You know that," Obi-Wan replied. "In the event that you are required to fight someone else with a lightsabre, it will be either a Dark Jedi or a Sith. It's nothing like sparring at the Temple, Anakin. You should hope that day never comes," he said seriously.

"I do, Master. But I'll be ready if it does," the boy replied.

Obi-Wan was not quite sure Anakin really did understand, despite how much Obi-Wan had tried to impress this point upon his padawan. The boy was bent on adventure, and that could be very dangerous in a young Jedi. Hopefully, this mission would help to show the boy the reality of a Jedi's duties. "Go get ready for bed," Obi-Wan commanded gently. Anakin nodded and took his bag to the fresher to get changed. Obi-Wan headed for the room and began changing into his own sleep clothes.

He couldn't help turning Anakin's comments over in his mind. It was true that this mission was somewhat of a trial by fire. This sort of thing happened for most padawans, when they encountered their first 'real' mission. Obi-Wan recalled being a little nervous on his first few missions. Anakin, however, seemed eager to jump right into whatever was thrown at him. It concerned Obi-Wan a little. After all, the boy's training had all been so rushed. And yet Anakin had picked up on all the basic skills remarkably quickly.

The possibility of facing a Dark Jedi or Sith, however, sent a chill up Obi-Wan's spine. He knew Anakin had at least shared one of his visions of the Sith. Though they had subsided greatly, he still had the dreams once in a while. But despite what he had seen and felt in the visions, Anakin did not seem to fear confronting such an opponent. It left Obi-Wan unsure if that eventuality should make him more concerned for himself or his padawan.

"Master," the boy's voice came from the doorway, snapping Obi-Wan out of his thoughts. He had finished changing already and was simply staring at the wall. Now he turned to face his padawan.

"What, Anakin?" he asked.

"Uh well, Filch is in the other room."

"Unless he's escaped," Obi-Wan replied as he crawled into one side of the large bed.

There was a pause. Still standing in the doorway, Anakin continued, "So we're just supposed to sleep in here?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied simply, shifting onto one side and closing his eyes. He could still sense his padawan's awkwardness through the Force, though. Remembering the daftness of twelve year old boys, he let out a sigh before leisurely explaining, "Anakin, this is a much more comfortable arrangement than we're likely to have on those future missions you seem so keen on having."

Without a word, the boy slowly crept to the other side of the bed and laid down on top of the covers. It was a very large bed and there was almost a full meter between he and his master. Obi-Wan didn't understand the problem. When Anakin was younger, he had surely shared a much smaller bed with his mother. Still, the boy shifted uncomfortably, then spoke up again. "Couldn't one of us sleep on the couch?" he asked, his tone clearly indicating that he expected Obi-Wan to volunteer.

"You may. I'm allergic to them," he replied, his tired voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Liar," Anakin grumbled. A second later, he sprang up out of the bed and headed for the closet.

Obi-Wan's eyes remained closed so he couldn't tell what exactly the boy was doing. He thought perhaps if he just kept his eyes closed long enough, he would fall asleep and not have to worry about it anymore. A few seconds passed and the boy was still making noise, so Obi-Wan cracked an eye open.

A wall of pillows obstructed the Jedi's view of the other side of the bed. Anakin's head appeared over the top of the barricade. "There," he said with a smile, "now you stay on your side."

"Wonderful," Obi-Wan muttered, closing both eyes again. "Now go to sleep."

With careful precision, Obi-Wan folded the last corner of the blanket and tucked it underneath the edge of the mattress. Standing back, he eyed his work. Satisfied, he turned out the lights and headed back into the main room.

Anakin sat at the table, now dressed in his full Jedi tunic, the cut similar to Obi-Wan's, but the colour darker. Not long after joining the order, the boy had begun nagging at Obi-Wan about the colour of his clothing, insisting that he would much rather have something in a medium brown tone. It had taken several months before Obi-Wan finally gave in, seeing little point in refusing the request any longer. He suspected the light tan too much resembled the endless sands of Tatooine for the boy's tastes. Whatever the reason, Anakin seemed to take pride in the bit of individuality. And it did help to hide the dirt and grime that seemed to have such an affinity for him, so Obi-Wan couldn't really complain.

"I don't think you had to do that," Anakin commented as Obi-Wan entered the room. "I think the people that work here do that for you."

"Perhaps, yet we are still guests here and as representatives of the Jedi and the Republic, we should be the best guests possible," Obi-Wan replied. In reality, it had more to do with a personal desire for neatness and a discomfort with high society. But somehow, Obi-Wan had developed the tendency in the last few years of automatically making a lesson out of everything.

Anakin seemed to accept the answer silently, and turned back to studying the report on Obi-Wan's datapad. His brow furrowed in what appeared to be concentration, but what Obi-Wan could sense was mostly confusion.

The Jedi Master slowly approached the table and stood behind his padawan, looking over his shoulder. "Any breakthroughs yet?" he asked.

His tone must have betrayed more amusement than intended, because Anakin's ears reddened in chagrin. Without looking up, he muttered, "No… I'm kind of confused."

The boy's earnest desire to contribute to the investigation brought a gentle smile to Obi-Wan's face. "Not all things can be easily understood," Obi-Wan said, patting Anakin on the shoulder as he turned to walk away from the table and over to the refresher door. He pounded on it with the side of a clenched fist. There was no reply. "Filch, we need to get going," he said, his voice elevated a little. This was the second reminder he had given the boy. At first, Filch had been quite opposed to bathing, until he saw that the bath was large enough to swim around in and had changed his mind. Obi-Wan had allowed the stalling for a time, but he had a mission to continue and now his patience was wearing thin. "Filch," he called, louder.

"Coming!" an annoyed voice yelled back.

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan turned away from the door with a sigh and headed back to the table. He circled to the end across from Anakin and began stacking the dirty dishes from breakfast into neat stacks.

"So," Anakin started slowly, "what exactly are we going to do now? I mean, I feel like we're stuck." The added remark '_At least I am'_ went unspoken but understood.

"There are still some unanswered questions to ask of Miss Sigrid when we return to the orphanage," Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin's eyes lit up with remembrance. "Like why she was there at night?"

"Well, that, and some other things," Obi-Wan said as he took a half full glass of juice over to the sink to rinse it out. "Such as why she pulled the alarm if she never actually saw any intruders, and a few other things."

The bathroom door slammed shut behind Filch as he emerged, his dark hair damp against his head. He strode over to the other two, and was met with Obi-Wan's disapproving gaze. Before the Jedi had a chance to say anything, however, the boy got the first word in. "Why are you cleaning that up?" he asked as though it were the most preposterous thing imaginable.

The diversionary tactic was not about to fool Obi-Wan, though. Ignoring the question, he went straight to his intended chastisement. "For someone who hates bathing so much, you managed to spend quite a long time in there."

"And I tried to get this off but I couldn't," Filch retorted, pointing to the bloodstain on his shoulder.

Obi-Wan did feel a little bad about that now, but also knew Filch was only bringing it up for the purpose of making him feel bad. He disappointed the boy's expectations of grovelling remorse by ignoring the complaint. Without a word, he took his cloak off the back of the couch and put it on.

Taking the signal that it was time to go, Anakin got up from his seat, handed Obi-Wan his datapad, and donned his own mantle. "Should we bring our packs?" he asked.

Obi-Wan knew they had no way of knowing how long they might be gone today, or what sort of trouble they might run into. There were extra ration bars and medical supplies in the bags. On the other hand, carrying them around all day would be an unneeded inconvenience. "We'll leave them in the speeder," he answered assuredly as he picked up his pack and headed for the door.

The boys followed a few steps behind. Filch, however, soon rushed ahead, opening the door and heading out into the hall. He had made it only a few of his short strides before a firm hand on his shoulder stopped his forward progress. He looked up to see Obi-Wan, eyes reflecting knowledge of the boy's intentions. "This time," the Jedi stated, "you will ride in the back."

When they entered the orphanage, Kala Sigrid didn't seem to notice. She was standing behind the tall desk, furiously typing away, oblivious to Obi-Wan and the boys. She let out an aggravated sigh and raked her hands through her blonde hair in frustration. It was only then that she seemed to notice the others in the room. "Master Kenobi, there you are!" she exclaimed in relief. "I was so worried when I saw that Filch was missing from his room until Misses Katadoni told me he'd gone with you, thank the gods! I thought maybe he'd escaped."

"I'm sorry to have alarmed you," Obi-Wan replied.

"Well you got him back safely so I guess that's all that matters." Kala's eyes fell back to the computer screen, and suddenly she let out a shriek. Filch covered his ears dramatically, while Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged glances. Seeing the reaction, Kala quickly covered her mouth with one hand "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, mortified. "I've been trying to reboot the security system properly, but every time I get close, the whole thing just implodes. You don't know how to fix it, do you?" she gave Obi-Wan a desperate look.

"I'm afraid not, m'lady," the Jedi replied. In truth, he might be able to figure out something if he tried, but that was hardly his job and there was no time for that sort of thing. He wanted to ask Kala some more questions, but not before he had spoken with Misses Katadoni again.

But before Obi-Wan could move his small party along, Anakin spoke up. "I bet I can fix it," he declared.

"Can you?" Kala asked a little incredulously. She glanced from the boy up to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan had to breathe very deeply to keep calm. He knew Anakin was only trying to be helpful and that he actually might be able to fix the system. His expertise in electro mechanics was something Obi-Wan had learned of very early in their relationship. Still, it didn't seem the most opportune moment for Anakin to make such gallant statements. Now it would seem rude to back down. "He may be able to help," the Jedi conceded.

Stepping aside, Kala let Anakin behind the desk. It only took him a few seconds of examining the screen to come to a conclusion. "I think I know what happened. The kidnappers must have used an auxiliary surge chip to break in."

"A what?" Kala asked, clueless.

"It's this booster that's used to give extra power to something. But if you get too much power going through it, it shuts the whole system down. I bet they used one to shut down the security system and left it on there," Anakin explained, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he did.

"That would explain it. Do you think you can fix it?" she questioned hopefully.

Anakin seemed about ready to reply when he finally noticed Obi-Wan's glowering eyes on him. He gave his master an apologetic look and stuttered, "Uh, I don't know."

Obi-Wan eyed the boy carefully. Clearly, he had been out of line to offer his help so freely, but it did seem it was needed. Securing the orphanage should be an objective of theirs as well as finding the missing orphans. "Where are the power controls?" he asked.

"I think they're in this big box outside in the back." She mimicked a box in the air with her hands as though they were unfamiliar with the object. "I'll have to unlock it for you, though," she said, then paused. "Oh, well I guess if they broke in it's probably unlocked. Stupid," she rolled her eyes at herself.

"Master," Anakin questioned, looking up at Obi-Wan, who waved him along. Anakin gave him a grateful smile.

"I'll go with you. I know how to get to the back," Filch said, starting down a hallway.

"Filch," Obi-Wan said, freezing the boy in place. "Are you certain you don't have some place to be at the moment? No classes?"

"Uh," Filch started, then smiled hopefully, "I have to be… outside helping Anakin fix the security system?"

Despite himself, Obi-Wan grinned at the orphan. "All right, go," he said, waving the two boys away. They quickly headed off to complete their task.

"Your apprentice is pretty smart," Kala remarked. "I never was very good with machines."

Obi-Wan saw an opportunity to carefully ask one of his questions. "But surely you excel in your area of expertise. You must, to have acquired an important position at such a young age. It's quite impressive," he said, putting an extra amount of admiration into his tone in hopes of coaxing further details out of her.

Kala smiled and brushed a piece of yellow hair behind her ear coquettishly. "That's flattering coming from a Jedi," she said. Then her smile fell into an expression of worry. "But I've only had this job a little while and now I'm not sure I'll be keeping it much longer."

Outwardly Kala seemed nervous and naïve, and Obi-Wan had difficulty sensing any other clear emotions through the Force, either. Studying her carefully, he decided perhaps she was even a few years younger than he had originally thought. She couldn't be older than 24. He could tell this line of questioning had run into a dead end. So he decided, with some reluctance, to move on. "I was wondering if I might ask you a few more questions about the night of the kidnapping."

"I thought I told the police everything, but of course. Maybe you've thought of something they haven't." She shrugged. "Ask away."

"When do you usually work here?" Obi-Wan made the question deliberately vague, wanting to test Kala's reply against what Misses Katadoni had told him.

"Oh, too much," the young woman replied with an exasperated chuckle. When Obi-Wan failed to laugh, she continued more seriously, "I'm in and out most days. I also oversee another orphanage and a women's shelter in the sector, so my time's stretched pretty thin."

"That must be difficult," Obi-Wan said. "Do you usually work late?"

"Thankfully, no. Usually I'm able to get out of here around sundown."

"And the night of the kidnappings?" Obi-Wan asked, watching carefully for the response.

But Kala didn't falter a step. "I was here running security checks. When the government took over, it was my job to oversee the change in security mechanisms." She let out a long sigh as she added softly, "Which just makes this situation all the worse."

Obi-Wan could not help but notice Kala's self-centred way of thinking about the kidnappings. To her, it was a threat to her personal career and ambitions rather than a tragedy involving missing children. Something in the back of his mind clicked and he suddenly remembered the comment Dex had made about the governor being up for re-election soon. He wondered if this didn't have something to do with Kala's worry, and decided to broach the subject. "Being the head of a Ministry, you have an office in the governor's complex, do you not?"

"I do, but I'm not there much," Kala replied.

"Do you know the governor very well?"

"Governor Lamont? No, not well," she answered, but Obi-Wan could have sworn he had sensed hesitation in the reply. He noted it mentally, but moved on to his last question.

"The only other thing I wanted to inquire about was the alarm. The report indicates you were the one to sound it, the alarm here by the desk I assume?" He pointed to a red circular pad on the wall. Kala nodded affirmative. "What I don't understand, however," Obi-Wan crossed his arms, loosely but noticeably, and shifted his weight a little, "is how you knew to pull the alarm if neither you or anyone else saw the kidnappers, as the report indicates there were no witnesses."

"I wish I had. If I knew who it was, I would tell you, but I really didn't see them," she insisted. "I just saw on the monitor here that all the security systems were failing- the locks, the cameras. I just assumed the worse. I guess I kind of panicked."

This time when Obi-Wan studied Kala, he gave her a very hard stare. She looked back with slightly worried blue eyes, clearly a little uncomfortable with the intense look on the Jedi's face. Fidgeting, she asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with, Master Jedi?"

"Is Misses Katadoni here?" he asked, his eyes and Force senses still focused on the young woman.

"Of course. First room on the left," Kala replied, pointing to the hallway off to her right.

Obi-Wan stretched out a little harder, grasping for something else, some sense of deception within the young woman. But all he got out of her was discomfort. Probably because he was staring at her as though he could psychically will her into disintegrating, he realised. With an almost inaudible sigh of frustration, he finally disengaged his focus and gave Kala a small bow. "Thank you for your assistance, Miss Sigrid," he said as the heel of his boot dug into the marble floor and he turned towards Misses Katadoni's room.

As Anakin followed Filch down the narrow hallways of the orphanage, he made an attempt to take in his surroundings. He knew Obi-Wan was big on that- familiarising yourself with where you were. So the young Jedi did his best to pay attention to where he was going, just in case he should need to know later.

"It's pretty rotten," Filch commented. Anakin broke his concentration and gave the younger boy a confused look. "The orphanage. You were looking at the crummy old paint and stuff."

"I wasn't," Anakin insisted honestly, realising that Filch must have misinterpreted his expression. He wasn't always sure what faces he made when he was thinking about something.

Filch rolled his eyes and shrugged off the protest. He ran his fingers along the yellowing paint of the wall, picking at cracks as he continued. "It's really old and I don't think they've ever fixed it up. At least not my room." A thought occurred to him and he looked up directly at Anakin again. "Why doesn't that guy who's in charge of the planet pay for new paint and floor and stuff? He's gotta have at least a billion credits."

Anakin was pretty sure it was more than a billion, at least two, but he didn't say that. Instead, he corrected. "He's in charge of the whole Republic, not just the planet," he said slowly, emphasizing the importance of the job. "Most people wouldn't even give your orphanage money. You should be happy that he does. It probably pays for important things like your food."

Filch snorted dismissively. "He could choose better food. And it's not _my_ orphanage. I hate it here," he said sourly.

Taking in the scuffed floor and peeling paint, Anakin could see Filch's point. There were probably things that needed to be redone here. But then they passed an open door, and he briefly glimpsed a group of small children being led in some sort of song by a teacher. Those kinds of things, they didn't have them everywhere. He hadn't had them on Tatooine. "There are a lot worse places to live," Anakin concluded.

"You live in a palace! How would you know?" Filch asked indignantly.

"It's not a palace!" Anakin replied sharply, his indignation rising. He knew more than Filch thought. "It's a temple, and most the time Jedi aren't even there. They go on dangerous missions to help people. Like this one to find your friends," he ground out the last words, his temper getting the best of him. It wasn't that he was angry with Filch, because he knew it was wrong to be angry. But he was very, very annoyed.

"Dangerous?" Filch asked sceptically. "All you've done so far is follow Obi-Wan around while he talks to people and you stay in a big hotel. I bet you never even use your lightsabre."

"Well, I haven't yet," Anakin replied reluctantly. "Not on a mission, but we practice. And Obi-Wan has lots of times."

"Like for what?" Filch asked, challengingly.

Despite the orphan's tone of doubt, Anakin thought he sensed a genuine curiosity behind the question. After all, Filch had been interested before when the subject had been brought up, but Obi-Wan had changed the subject. It wasn't something he liked to talk about. Anakin slowly came to a stop, and looked down steadily at Filch, who had halted beside him expectantly.

In a slightly lowered voice he asked, "Have you ever heard of the Sith?" Filch shook his head. "They can use the Force like Jedi, except they use the Dark Side. So they're really powerful and dangerous. So dangerous that nobody has killed one for over a thousand years, except," he paused a moment for emphasis, "for Obi-Wan."

"…In a lightsabre fight?" Filch asked. Anakin nodded. Then, a little hopefully, "Did you see it?"

"Yeah," Anakin replied, and in a manner of speaking, he had. He'd seen the dream and had the image of how frightening and evil the Sith was imprinted on his brain. They hadn't talked about it much, but Anakin knew he had seen the memory. When he asked about it, Obi-Wan always just said he had to be wary of the Dark Side. Anakin was pretty sure that Obi-Wan meant you had to be able to fight evil people. That wasn't quite how his master had explained it, but then again his master didn't like to explain it very much.

Filch started slowly down the hallway again, and Anakin followed in silence. After a few steps, Filch spoke up again. "Were you telling the truth when you said he was the best Jedi at sword fighting?"

Shaking his head, Anakin insisted, "No, he is. People always tell me his master was the best and he trained Obi-Wan. So I hope I can be the new best." He grinned.

"Here, this door goes outside," Filch said, interrupting the conversation to lead Anakin out back. "I don't know where the whatever box is."

"It's this one," Anakin said, spotting a metal case against the side of the building. The latch had been broken, he guessed by the kidnappers, so he swung the doors open and began studying the interior. The power controls consisted of a tangle of transparasteel tubes that would have seemed incomprehensible to most. But Anakin quickly found the tube he was looking for and began tracing it with a finger to find its connection junction.

Filch watched in mild wonder for a moment, but his eye soon drifted down from Anakin's hands to the weapon at his side. In his nicest voice, he asked, "Hey, can I see your lightsabre?"

Glancing at Filch's eager face through his reflection in one of the pipes, Anakin gave a flat, "No," in response.

"You couldn't even just show me how you do some of the moves?"

Anakin hesitated for a second. He knew Obi-Wan didn't want him to show off. But this was helping explain to Filch what Jedi did. "Okay, just a few," Anakin said, turning around and stepping back on the platform so he had enough room. In what he thought was a fairly swift movement, he unclipped his lightsabre, slipped it into his palm, and ignited it. Filch's eyes widened noticeably at the sight of the shimmering sapphire blade.

In truth, Anakin hadn't been practicing with his lightsabre for very long yet. First Obi-Wan had made him use wooden sticks to get some of the motions right. So he was a little nervous to show Filch part of a kata, but he was also sure he could do it. Anakin assumed a ready stance, then spun to the side, ending with his sabre held horizontally at shoulder level out away from his body. Then he made a diagonal cut downwards at the air. He finished with a strike that brought the sabre up in a high arc behind him and down in a brutal slice. Out of habit, he gave a small bow before extinguishing his sabre and replacing it on his belt.

"Okay, that's cool," Filch had to admit. "But if you guys can fight why do you investigate things like this?"

Anakin shrugged a little as he went back to the power casing. "Jedi help people, just in a lot of ways. And this way once we find the kidnappers, we'll be able to capture them but the police might not be able to."

"I guess."

"Here it is!" Anakin exclaimed happily.

Filch scooted up beside him and looked at the tiny screw-like device plunged into one of the pipes. "That's the thing you were talking about?"

"The auxiliary surge chip," Anakin offered. "It's in the power conduit for the security systems which is why they won't boot up and how the kidnappers shut them off. They're not that hard to use." He carefully fingered the top of the device and began to unscrew it. Finally, it popped free from the tube and into his hand.

Suddenly, the consistent low humming of electricity stopped. The lights in the building all quickly dimmed, and Anakin encountered a moment of panic. He stared at the tube he had taken the surge chip out of and his stomach sank as he saw that the wires inside were no longer glowing. The lapse was only momentary, however. Soon the power systems were all coming back online and the wires burned green inside the tubing once again. Anakin managed to make it seem like he'd expected that to happen as he calmly shut the doors on the box and slipped the chip into a pouch on his belt.

"That was close," Filch remarked. "How'd you know what that thing was, anyway?"

"I used them in podracers to open up for short energy boosts. I used to build my own pods and race them," Anakin explained.

"Nuh uh," Filch scoffed. "I heard humans can't race pods."

"I'm the only one who has," Anakin replied proudly. He could sense that Filch didn't really believe him. "You can look up the records. I won the Boonta Eve race on Tatooine three years ago."

The confidence seemed to throw Filch off a little. "You raced pods in the Outer Rim. What kind of mission was that?"

"It wasn't a mission. I wasn't a Jedi then. I lived there, with my mom." His throat contracted involuntarily at the memory.

The reference didn't escape Filch. His dark brows knit together softly in an almost sympathetic expression. Finally, he asked, "You left your mom to become a Jedi?" Anakin nodded, but turned away to begin heading inside. Filch followed close behind. "I don't even know my mom or my dad," the orphan said hesitantly.

Anakin could feel Filch's sincerity and sorrow trickling through the Force. "I don't have a dad either. And I haven't seen my mom since I left."

Now Filch was beside the young Jedi, but neither looked at the other. "But Obi-Wan takes care of you, right? That's kind of like having a dad."

"Yeah," Anakin agreed, pausing to think about it. Though his master had told him before about how being in the Order was different than being in a family, Anakin couldn't help but see the connection. "Because masters and padawans live together and do things together like a family." In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that would make Obi-Wan an orphan, too.

"I hate it here," Filch said again, dropping his eyes to the grubby floor and kicking at the tiles as they walked. "It's worse without my friends…" he trailed off as the premonitions of tears crept into his eyes and throat.

"Don't worry, Filch," Anakin assured him. "Obi-Wan will figure out who kidnapped them and we'll find them."

"Yeah?" Filch asked, unsure.

Anakin nodded confidently, proudly. He had no doubt about that. The investigation was taking maybe a little longer than he'd thought. But then again, he'd never been on a mission quite like this and Obi-Wan had. If there was something to worry about, Obi-Wan would have made it clear. But Anakin was sure there wasn't. His master was supposed to be a really good Jedi, and Anakin knew it was true. Master Obi-Wan could handle anything.

Chai Katadoni looked a little surprised when she opened her door to see the Jedi standing there. "Oh, hello," she said with a smile. "I guess I was expecting it to be someone much smaller and younger. A grown man is about the last person you expect to see around here. Can I help you, Sir?"

_Sir? _Was he really old enough to be a 'sir', he wondered? Anakin used the term once in a while, but only, Obi-Wan suspected, when the boy thought he was about to get in trouble. "There are a few things I would like to speak with you about, if you aren't too busy," Obi-Wan said. Observing Chai's reddened colour, she appeared to have been working on something.

"Oh, no, come on in," she replied nonchalantly, gesturing as she led the way into the genially lit apartment. The pervasive colour was a soft mauve that appeared to have been violet at one time. The furniture in the sitting room wore the grooves of countless uses. Like the rest of the orphanage, Chai's apartment appeared to be in need of renovation. "You have a seat," the matron insisted as she moved out of sight to another room.

Obi-Wan did as commanded, slowly lowering himself to a slouching divan. He rested a hand on each knee and assumed a straightened posture. An unidentifiable but pleasant smell wafted through the air from the room Chai had disappeared into.

Chai re-entered a moment later, carrying a plate of small glistening morsels. "I was baking some sweets for the children," she explained as she settled into a high-backed chair across from him. "Would you like one?"

"They look wonderful, but no thank you," Obi-Wan replied politely. He believed he had outgrown his taste for sweets a long time ago. "You must have baked quite a few of them. How many children live here at the orphanage?" he asked, skipping right ahead to some of his inquiries.

"We had around 50, and then added another 16 a few months ago when the government took over. They bought out the rest of the rooms in the building," she explained.

"Was this an apartment complex?" Obi-Wan asked. "I noticed there were no refresher units in the individual rooms."

"It was a school originally." Chai motioned to the room they were in. "This was the apartment where the headmistress lived. When it shut down, my husband and I started buying out the building piece by piece, starting with this space for ourselves. All the larger rooms were converted into smaller ones for the orphans. The rest was rented out by the owner to various small businesses."

"And your husband?" Obi-Wan asked rather delicately. This was the first mention anyone had made of him, and he suspected he knew what the response would be.

"He passed on ten years ago. Only 45," she said with a melancholy smile as she plucked at the tattered fabric of her chair's arm. "But he left me with the orphanage and enough money to keep it going. All the children and workers are my family now."

Obi-Wan nodded his understanding. "And where do Miss Sigrid and the government fit in?"

Chai studied the young man for a moment, then replied with a wry smile, "As popular as it can be to complain about the system, they have given us extra aid. I try to remember that."

There was a betraying tint of hesitance in her words that did not escape Obi-Wan's notice. "You don't seem to be so assured of that. Does it have to do with Miss Sigrid?"

"Kala's a very sweet girl. I think she's doing her best, under the circumstances." Her face grew sympathetic. "She's very young to have such a responsibility."

Obi-Wan's initial thought was that he knew the feeling. But he immediately withdrew from that. The notion that he and a typical government vassal like Kala Sigrid could have something in common seemed debasing. Not that he was about to tell Misses Katadoni that. Nor would he openly suggest that he didn't quite trust Kala. So instead, he asked, "What hours does Miss Sigrid usually work here?"

"Usually she's here about every other day until sundown," Chai replied. If that had been all she had to say, Obi-Wan would have felt his suspicion about Kala's story confirmed. But instead, Misses Katadoni added, "But she was here the night of the kidnappings, of course. She'd stayed late to work on the security systems some more because they'd been having troubles. She was sorting through some paperwork at her desk the last I saw."

Scratching at his beard idly, thoughtfully, Obi-Wan leaned back against the wall. He forgot his interview subject for a moment as he pondered the facts of the case. Ultimately, he came up frustrated once again. There seemed to be no holes in Kala's story, and he could think of no other leads. Besides Filch's testimony of the Niktos he had seen taking the boys, Obi-Wan had nothing to go on. No leads, no hunches about how to find the kidnappers, nothing.

Obi-Wan was rapidly beginning to feel distinctly like a child pretending to be a Jedi rather than the real thing. He had always felt that investigative missions had been a strong point of his. At least, he had been making progress with them near the end of his apprenticeship. But this mission was like being thrown off a building and seeing if he could fly; there would be no one to catch him if he couldn't.

Chai's deep, cheery voice broke in with an altered tone. "I hope Filch behaved himself last night. That boy can be quite a handful sometimes. He was one of the orphans moved in by the government recently, but he's already managed to think of some very creative means of getting around the rules here."

He thought perhaps 'quite a handful' was an understatement. Still, though it stretched his sense of discipline to admit it, there was something admirable about the boy's tenacity. "Yes, well I believe he enjoyed himself quite a bit, though mostly at my own expense."

"Oh no!" Misses Katadoni exclaimed with a chuckle. "I'm sorry about that. But I'm sure you're used to it. Whether in an orphanage or a temple, raising a child is still the same job."

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied slowly, "though I doubt you give your children weapons."

"Oh, I can't even imagine," Chai replied, her eyes fluttering at the very idea.

Another silence settled in, and Obi-Wan found himself sifting through the information he had gathered once again. He was determined to bring the orphans back safely, but at the same time completely at a loss about where to go from here. In a transient kind of meditation, he pleaded to the Force for some guidance.

"It breaks my heart to think that someone would take those poor children," Misses Katadoni said, her face falling to a sombre expression. "I keep imagining that they've just wandered off and that I'll run into them out in the streets and have to scold them then hug them all." She paused, and something seemed to occur to her. "You do have their pictures, don't you, Master Jedi?"

It suddenly occurred to Obi-Wan that he didn't have any pictures of the kidnapped orphans. He wondered why he hadn't thought of that before. It would certainly be beneficial. Shaking his head, he replied. "No, as a matter of fact, I was never given any pictures of them. Do you have any?"

"The police report didn't even include them?" Misses Katadoni was taken aback. She let out a frustrated sigh. "That's probably another of their budgeting measures."

Something inside Obi-Wan's brain tingled as he heard resentment once again edging into Chai's voice. "And what other measures have there been?" Obi-Wan asked, leaning forward slowly to reposition his weight on his left arm which he had braced against his knee. He hadn't necessarily intended to seem more imposing- it was only a naturally curious reaction- but it came across that way.

Chai shook her head slightly. "They wanted to renovate the security system so that all the children's doors would lock at night. They had call buttons put in all the rooms in case any of them needed something. The intention was to cut down on the number of workers needed during the nightshift and to improve security at the same time."

"And?" Obi-Wan asked, raising one eyebrow.

"And, well," Chai brushed some invisible annoyance off the legs of her slacks, "we've seen how the Governor's improved security measures work."

Obi-Wan could understand Misses Katadoni's anger over the matter. If not for the change, there would have been more workers around who could have possibly seen the kidnappers.

The tingling in Obi-Wan's brain flared up, becoming a full-on Force premonition. _There would have been witnesses if not for the Governor's improved security measures_. He vaguely remembered a reference Dex had made to the Governor running for re-election. And Kala had been skittish on the subject of the Governor as well. Obi-Wan realised that this was the sort of incident that could very much damage a politician's career. The politicians he knew would stop at nothing to cover up such an event.

Perhaps, just perhaps, there was something to this. But for whatever reason, a tiny crack had opened in the seemingly impenetrable mystery. Obi-Wan felt compelled to investigate the possibilities further. It was worth a try. It wasn't quite the answer he had been searching for, but it was something. He silently thanked the Force for his heightened awareness.

"Is there something else I can help you with, Master Jedi?" Chai asked after waiting quietly as the Jedi worked through his thoughts.

Obi-Wan's eyes shot back to hers from the corner of the room where they had drifted. Before he was able to answer, however, the room was suddenly plunged into darkness. The Jedi could sense Misses Katadoni's starting in surprise at the sudden power failure. He wondered at it for only a second; then he remembered what Anakin was doing, or supposed to be doing.

Despite the fact that it was dark, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. This was the last complication they needed right now. Before he knew he had decided to, he had stood up and was ready to navigate his way through the dark to a soon to be less than living apprentice. As soon as he did, however, the lights slowly flickered back to life, resurrecting young Anakin with them.

"What was that?" Chai wondered aloud as she herself stood.

"My apprentice," Obi-Wan replied tightly. The boy wasn't quite out of this yet. "If you'll excuse me, Misses Katadoni," he said with a quick bow, turning towards the door.

"Oh, wait!" Chai called out, stopping him. She scuttled into another room that appeared to be a small office from what Obi-Wan glimpsed of it.

It occurred to him that she was probably retrieving the pictures, and he was chagrined for forgetting about them so quickly in his sudden irritation with Anakin. One step forwards, two steps back- that was how this whole mission had been progressing, it seemed.

Chai reemerged, holding a small disc. "Here, their pictures," she said, handing the disc over to Obi-Wan. He quickly loaded it into his datapad, transferred the information, and handed it back.

"Thank you very much for your time, Misses Katadoni," he replied, taking the time to make a less hurried bow. She nodded her acknowledgement, and the Jedi made his way back out into the narrow hall.

It took him only a few determined strides to reach a juncture, and he realised he wasn't sure which way to go. He probably could have reached out with the Force, located his padawan, and found the way to him. But he knew the wiser thing to do was to calm himself and wait for the boy to come to him. As Obi-Wan sought after his centre, he couldn't help but worry that the lights would suddenly cut out again, for good this time. He knew letting Anakin attempt to fix the security system had been an ill-advised idea. The boy had probably managed to cause more trouble.

_Calm, _Obi-Wan reminded himself sharply. He was quite aware of the fact that this meditation was not going terribly well. Still, he continued, breathing more slowly, and drawing on some much needed patience. By the time he spotted Anakin and Filch rounding a corner a few minutes later, he had managed to subdue his temper. Mostly.

"Master!" Anakin called happily.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan replied tersely. "Would you care to explain that?" He was fairly certain he didn't need to elaborate.

Anakin seemed unaffected by the stern edge in Obi-Wan's voice, however. He simply reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small cylindrical device. "It's the surge chip. I found it."

"I see that," Obi-Wan replied.

"Well he fixed it. Shouldn't you be happy?" Filch asked.

"That won't happen again, Master," Anakin reassured him. "It was just when I pulled the chip out and it had to reboot."

"Well," Obi-Wan stammered a little, not quite sure what to say. He had intended on giving the boy a comment or two on the complications that could arise from needless side projects on missions. Now this hardly seemed like the time, and the Jedi Master felt himself feeling a little at a loss and just the slightest bit idiotic. "Good," he finally replied with a small nod. Anakin beamed.

"Did you find anything else out?" the padawan asked.

"We have some more leads to investigate, yes," Obi-Wan replied.

"Can I come?" Filch asked, looking up at the Jedi with pleading and almost admiring eyes.

Obi-Wan wondered a little at where the orphan's hard edge had gone. He suspected the boy knew various methods of getting what he wanted, though. In any case, the answer was still a decisive, "No."

"But," Filch said meekly, "I wanna help."

The sincerity in the boy's words gave Obi-Wan a moment of pause. He reminded himself that, for all his grandstanding, Filch was just a little boy. And one who was enduring some very difficult circumstances at that. The Jedi's voice softened a little. "You have, Filch," he assured the boy. "But you need to stay here for now."

Much to Obi-Wan's delight, the orphan's only reply was a small nod of acquiescence. He glanced over at his padawan, sending him a questioning look. But Anakin's small grin and general sense of pride through the Force seemed rather ambiguous, so he let the matter go. "Let's go," he said, and the boy readily began leading the way back to the hangar.

Obi-Wan noticed Filch beginning to wander aimlessly down a side hallway in a direction that would surely not take him to his classroom or where he was supposed to be at the moment. A thought occurred to him. "By the way," he said, as if to no one in particular, "Misses Katadoni just finished baking some wonderful smelling sweets."

Without stopping, Filch circled about, reversing his direction. After a few calm steps, he broke into a jog and darted past the Jedi, determined to be the first to make it to Misses Katadoni's apartment.

_It never fails, _Obi-Wan thought confidently. But the momentary amusement soon faded and he set his mind back on reality. Focus was a key element to unlocking new clues in a case. And, Force help him, he needed every hint of a clue he could get.

"Carefully," Obi-Wan's mellow voice seemed to curl up at the edges with tension as the speeder banked sharply into the hangar. His arms were folded tightly, giving the appearance of discontent with Anakin's piloting, but serving the practical purpose of giving Obi-Wan something other than the arms of his seat to grip.

"I am, Master," Anakin replied in an assuaging tone. He waited a few seconds before slowing the craft as he searched for an open spot. Probably, Obi-Wan thought, enough time for the boy to convince himself the caution had been his own idea. The one thing Obi-Wan did seem to comprehend perfectly well about his apprentice was that he did not like his piloting skills questioned or dictated by anyone else. Obi-Wan had decided that leaving the piloting to Anakin and everything else to himself was about the appropriate balance for this mission.

"There's one," the Jedi Master said, pointing to an open spot.

"Too small," his padawan insisted, and proceeded to move down to a slot of identical size. As he settled the craft down slowly, his face bore an expression of concentration. Obi-Wan reflected that the boy seemed older than his dozen years when engaged in something like this that put his skills into practice. Even though Anakin was far from worried about piloting, the task did manage to make him more focused.

As soon as they stepped out of the speeder, however, the boy's composure began to slip. "Master," he began questioningly as he circled around the craft to fall in step with Obi-Wan.

"Hm," Obi-Wan hummed in acknowledgement.

"We're here to talk to the governor, but," the boy paused, unsure, "I'm not sure what we're going to ask him about."

Obi-Wan had summarized his interviews with Kala and Misses Katadoni during the ride to the Governor's office. Anakin seemed to have followed well enough; and yet, Obi-Wan could tell that the boy was still unsatisfied. "It won't be asking so much as observing. I would like to get a sense of where the Governor stands in all of this."

Anakin nodded, but Obi-Wan could easily sense the boy's frustration. It was understandable, of course. Obi-Wan was frustrated as well, though perhaps not quite in the same way. He was just better at hiding it. "This is called an apprenticeship for a reason, padawan," the Jedi Master imparted lightly.

"But I want to help the investigation, Master. I just can't think of anything to ask people."

Anakin's voice was filled with such a grave earnestness that Obi-Wan had to smile. The boy was so doggedly set on acting like an adult Jedi, but his skills were naturally an inchoate mess at the moment. "It takes time, young one."

The padawan's nose wrinkled up teasingly as he regarded his master. "Until I'm as old as you? I'm never going to be _that_ old."

The irony of the remark did not escape Obi-Wan's attention. As they exited the hangar and rounded the corner to the front of the building, however, any remark he might have made abruptly died. He spotted a small group preparing to board an oblong charter speeder.

It was evident from the quality of the craft and its smoky windows that it was intended for someone of high profile. And he recognized the man in the center from Palpatine's mission report. His appearance was unmistakeable: cropped peppery hair, a square jaw supporting a polished set of teeth, grey cut uniform with amber piping, and a tawny cape to match. Quickening his pace a little, Obi-Wan strode over to the group. "Governor Lamont," he called, just loud enough to get the politician's attention.

Lamont glanced over at the two approaching Jedi. For just a moment, Obi-Wan could detect the Governor's face falling along with his mood. But it was only a passing instant, and then he was smiling politely but at them. "Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker. It's nice to see you in person."

"And you as well," Obi-Wan replied, his tone rising to match the cordial quality of the Governor's. He was quite sure Lamont was not so pleased to see them. He had no doubt been briefed on the Jedi presence in the investigation and did not, on first impression, seem to appreciate the outside attention, for whatever reason.

"I hope your investigation is going well," Lamont waxed sympathetic to the aim.

"As a matter of fact, I would like to discuss it with you," Obi-Wan put it directly. Or as directly as was allowed in such sidestepping conversations of wills.

"Now, I would like to help you," Lamont started. It was already clear from his tone that he was to offer a compelling reason why he couldn't be of assistance. "However, I was just about to depart for a meeting with our local representatives at the Senate complex."

It was the kind of dodge Obi-Wan had expected. That didn't mean he had to accept it. "What a coincidence," he replied, his tone holding its false pleasantry all the while, "we were headed to the Senate as well."

Seeing he was out willed and out manoeuvred, Lamont gave in. "I'd be happy to take you," he replied. His demeanour was inviting, but the reluctant way he climbed into the back of the transport betrayed his defeat. The Mon Calamari advisor who followed the governor did less to hide his displeasure with the situation. Casting a glance in Obi-Wan's direction, he began cautioning Lamont in low tones. Had he the concentration to try enhancing his hearing, Obi-Wan may have been able to pick up on what was being said. He was distracted, however, by the sinewy, jaundiced guard now standing very close to him.

"Your weapons," the tall creature commanded, extending a three fingered hand.

Obi-Wan stared up at the security officer, quickly assessing the alien. Its square face and slotted nose quickly identified it as an Ogusk, a strong arboreal species capable of both dexterity and strength. The individual in front of him was obviously female, as the males were much shorter and rarely left their native planet. Judging by the breadth of the creature's arms, she had in no way neglected her physical potential since moving off-world. Her unblinking eyes gazed back at him steadily. "You are not allowed to have weapons while in the governor's vehicle," she added more persistently.

"With all due respect," Obi-Wan replied, "Jedi do not relinquish their lightsabres."

"Then with all due respect," she replied, mockery edging into her curiously metallic tinged voice, "Jedi do not ride in the governor's transport."

It was readily apparent that there would be no compromise. Obi-Wan had invited himself along, and unfortunately, he knew this meant he would have to play along as well. "I understand," he replied, acquiescing but entirely displeased about it. He slowly unclipped his sabre and handed it over.

Long fingers quickly clenched the hilt in their grasp, and the other hand beckoned Anakin to hand over his weapon as well. The boy seemed miffed, and sent Obi-Wan some very confused waves of emotion, which, despite the lack of words, amounted to a _I thought you said we were supposed to take great care of these! _The Jedi Master gave a small shrug in response, hoping to convey that there was no other option in this instance. His padawan seemed to understand, and liked it about as much. He slapped the hilt into the guard's palm huffily.

"Now," the guard instructed Obi-Wan, "you may sit in the back with Governor Lamont. But the boy will remain in the front. There isn't near enough room in the back for all of us."

Judging by Anakin's small size and ability to wriggle into slim spaces, Obi-Wan was fairly certain the lad could have fit himself into the back seat. He suspected the real reason for the separation was a common paranoia- put two Jedi in a room with you, and they would undoubtedly use their tremendous combined power to kill or otherwise harm you. It was ridiculous, of course, just as confiscating their weapons was ridiculous. But it created an illusion of protection for some.

"We understand," Obi-Wan replied, forcing the annoyance out of his voice now. He hoped it might ease the tension between the guard and himself a little. It seemed to work, as the towering alien led the way into the back of the craft, allowing him a moment with his padawan.

"So much for observing," Anakin grumbled.

"You will be able to observe what I cannot. Pay attention, padawan; you may discover something of value," Obi-Wan said. The chances were low, but the idea of Anakin simply letting his mind wander the whole trip seemed wasteful. It was better to assign him a task and keep him occupied.

Anakin nodded his resignation to the assignment. "Yes, Master," he replied obediently as he slowly shuffled into the front of the speeder. Obi-Wan entered through the back door, on the other side of the partition. The blockade was strong but thin; it was clear that anyone who really thought this was going to effectively separate Master and Padawan was clearly fooling themselves. He could easily sense Anakin attempting to hone his Force senses in on his surroundings through the thin divide.

Satisfied, the Jedi Master relegated the ever-present link with Anakin to the back of his mind and switched the majority of his perception to the governor. He tried to ignore the body guard sitting close by his side as he regarded the man across from him. The politician was flanked by his rotund advisor, who observed the Jedi as though he were an unknown, potentially deadly disease that had infiltrated the large speeder.

The governor, however, was clearly better at socialising with those he was not entirely comfortable with. "Well Master Kenobi," he began, straightening a crease in his ashen slacks. "I hope your investigation is proceeding well." A pause for a perceptive smile. "I assume that's what this chat is about."

At least he wasn't going to try to dodge the issue coyly and needlessly for the first half of the conversation. It was the most one could expect from a politician, the Jedi supposed. Well, if honesty was what Lamont wanted to project, it was what he would receive in return. "It might be proceeding better if we had cooperation."

Lamont clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Now is that a fair assessment of the situation, Master Jedi? I turned the reports over to you as the Chancellor requested."

The advisor seemed eager to add in his own comment. "Governor Lamont is a former police captain for the Sector. Our law enforcement offices are some of the best of any Sector, Master Kenobi. The police are doing their job and doing it well, I assure you."

Obi-Wan hardly acknowledged the man's obligatory rhetoric. Instead, he continued to question the governor. "Is it customary for reports on suspected kidnappings not to contain images on the missing individuals?" Obi-Wan asked, letting his irritation at the sloppy work show. But it was also quite evident that it may not have been accidental at all, for a variety of reasons.

"The reports you were given were requested mere hours after the kidnappings. My law enforcement officers had not yet collected all of the information, but the Chancellor already saw fit to intervene it seems." There was a distinct note of distaste apparent as he mentioned Palpatine, not so much in his tone as in the feelings he was subconsciously outputting to the Jedi.

"Still, it appears it would behove the case and the safe retrieval of the missing orphans for your officers to coordinate with us," Obi-Wan contended.

Lamont let his eyes drop to the floor a moment as he slowly replied, "In an ideal system, perhaps." When his gaze came back up, it was noticeably stonier. "But, to speak plainly, and with respect to the Jedi, your prime objective here is not the solution of this case. Chancellor Palpatine sees a possible way to undermine me because I do not often agree with him. The reason you are here is entirely political."

The mere suggestion of reducing him to one of Palpatine's lackeys made Obi-Wan cringe inwardly. On the outside, he only grew more cold in posture and tone. "I speak for myself and the sympathies of the Jedi. Not the Chancellor."

Lamont cocked an eyebrow. His advisor seemed ready to stop whatever comment was coming next, but the governor continued anyway. "I was under the impression that the Jedi represented the Republic. Am I wrong in this assumption?"

Clenching his jaw and releasing it, Obi-Wan forced himself not to become too aggravated over the insinuations. There was almost nothing more odious to him than political puppetry. It was an insult that cut him to the core. Rather than dignify the question with a response that would undoubtedly be misinterpreted, he fired back. "It seems as though you have more to gain from a successful law enforcement triumph as Palpatine would from a failure."

At that remark, the governor's demeanour chilled, his hands folding across his lap. Now his advisor spoke up again, his fleshy cheeks reddening. "Let's not lower ourselves to untoward and baseless accusations, Master Kenobi," he chastised.

The admonition rang in Obi-Wan's ears. He liked to think the comments and opinions of politicians meant nothing to him, but this was different. They had determined him to be a pawn, and what was worse, a muckraker. _Or they're only treating you that way because they feel genuinely threatened, _he thought. Upon second thought, that seemed a reasonable conjecture. In that context, the sting faded and Obi-Wan tenaciously went for another potential weakness. "They are observations, not accusations," he said pointedly. To Lamont, he added, "I have observed that Miss Sigrid is very worried about the potential repercussions of this incident on her career as well."

For a moment that might be considered merely incidental by most, Lamont was visibly and mentally thrown by the mention of Kala. It did not escape the Jedi's attention. The governor soon rejoined, "Miss Sigrid is young and new to her position. She is likely to be under an extreme amount of stress at the moment, for which I would hope you would have sympathy."

The reply was polished, meant to make Obi-Wan feel bad for ever having the audacity to suggest that such a noble young woman might in fact be very selfish. In short, it was utter feculence. Those weren't the first words that came to Obi-Wan's mind, but he quickly euphemised on the chance that Anakin might "overhear". It had happened before, much to the Jedi Master's mortification and the boy's amusement. Force knew that was not the kind of behavior Obi-Wan needed to encourage.

Rather than continue directly, Obi-Wan decided to attempt to get Lamont to force his hand. In a manner that suggested no sly intentions, he asked, "Has she done her job well?"

"Extremely," Lamont insisted. "I would not have appointed her for the position had she not been capable of fulfilling it."

Obi-Wan carefully turned the response over in his mind, trying to glean from it whatever he could. If Lamont had appointed Kala to her position personally, then they probably had more regular contact than she had suggested. It was becoming clear that their political careers were tied to one another. He wondered how closely.

"Miss Sigrid is technically a member of your administration, is she not?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Of course, as all Ministers are," Lamont replied.

"Then I presume she's been working with your campaign." He phrased it as an assumption, but in reality, he had no idea if it were true or not. A specific reaction either way was all he was looking for. Obi-Wan knew not everyone in an administration would be working with or for the same political groups.

"She is," the governor answered. His eyes narrowed slightly as he attempted to gauge where the Jedi was going with this.

On the other side of the speeder, however, Obi-Wan was surprised at the response. He hadn't really considered this connection before, and now he wondered why not. It would certainly link the motivations of the two politicians and further explain any sort of cover up or ulterior motive.

Seeing the Jedi's reaction, the governor's advisor practically jumped to respond, "Any ideas you might concoct about some sort of vast conspiracy are absolutely preposterous." He waggled an imposing index finger at Obi-Wan. "If the Jedi truly wish to serve the people and not the Chancellor, you would do well to work towards a real solution to this tragic case rather than wasting time belying a good man."

The speeder had come to a halt, and glancing out the smoky windows for the first time, Obi-Wan could see they had arrived at the Senate building. Governor Lamont reached for the door and opened it, getting one foot out before he turned back to face the Jedi. It was clear he held no fondness for the other man, but years of being diplomatic must have compelled him to act otherwise. "I do hope someone solves this case, Master Kenobi. And in time to be of good to the missing orphans. All politics aside."

The last comment was said as a request of Obi-Wan, as though the governor could not himself be guilty of politicking. The Jedi gave a curt nod, and the governor exited. He was followed by the advisor who gave Obi-Wan one last warning glance before lumbering his way out of the vehicle. The Jedi rubbed the bristles on his chin contemplatively as he watched them go.

A low sound like wind through a pipe reverberated from the creature seated beside the Jedi Master. Unsure if he was being threatened, Obi-Wan slowly turned to look up at the guard. Her lidless eyes peered down at him vexedly. "I assume you want to be taken back to the governor's building," she stated matter-of-factly, sounding none too pleased.

Obi-Wan hadn't exactly considered how they were going to get back to their speeder once they reached the Senate building. The decision to ride along with Lamont had been based on the necessity of the moment. He felt it would be imposing a bit on their hosts to ask for further transport. He also felt Lamont's guard would much prefer if he disembarked here. "No thank you. We'll find our way back, I'm sure," he replied.

The Ogusk gave a lethargic nod. "Good." The cacophonic peal of the single word grated against Obi-Wan's eardrums. He thought they would both be more at ease with his departure. First, of course, he would need their lightsabres back. Fortunately, the sentinel anticipated the request and with one sallow hand produced both hilts from a secure storage box at her side.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said as he took the two weapons. He wasted no time in letting himself out the door and onto the street side platform. The Jedi squinted in the bright midday sun of the upper level. A quick survey of his surroundings told him they were on the south side of the Senate complex, in front of the grand entry staircase. The Jedi Temple lay off to the west, ever-visible as it towered nearly a kilometre over the rest of the skyline.

Obi-Wan rapped on the darkened window of Anakin's door. A few seconds passed, and the boy soon emerged, swinging his legs out onto the artificial ground of the pedway. As soon as the door had closed behind him, the long speeder lifted off the landing strip and sped off into the sky.

"I don't think they liked us much, Master," Anakin observed as he watched the departing transport.

"They were certainly wary," Obi-Wan acknowledged pointedly as he handed the boy's lightsabre back. Perhaps inordinately, but politicians had a way of thinking themselves more important and more entitled to the utmost secrecy and security than ordinary citizens.

"I tried to talk to the pilot about the ship," Anakin said, "but he didn't say much."

Wordlessly, the Jedi Master steered his apprentice out of the thick stream of pedestrians and off to the side of the pedway. "Did you observe anything besides the control panel?" The suggestion was there, if not the actual reproach.

The padawan was quick to defend himself. "I paid attention, Master, like you said to. I was going to tell you about the message next."

An eyebrow lifted slightly in interest. "What message was that?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"On the way over here, the pilot got a holo message for the governor. It was from Miss Sigrid."

Now he had Obi-Wan's full attention. The Jedi Master's gaze intensified noticeably. "Did he play it?"

The earnestness of the question caused the boy to skip the acknowledgement and jump straight into the information he knew his master wanted to hear. "She wanted to talk to him about a donation from this place called the, uh," he paused a moment to remember precisely, "Amalric Core Syndicate."

Obi-Wan ruminated on the bit of information. It seemed ordinary enough, but if the governor and his administration really were hiding something, it would be wise to leave no stone unturned. "Did she seem distressed at all, padawan?"

Anakin's brow crinkled as he turned the memory over in his mind. "She said it was important to reply as soon as he could."

That cemented Obi-Wan's feeling that they should look into this further. It could be another dead end, but in his experience, it often took running into many dead ends before you found an opening. It was worth a try. Stepping back towards the speeder landing strip, he signalled to a slowing sky-taxi. The Rodian pilot turned back to them as they climbed in the open cab. "Destination?" he asked.

"Sector 24 capital," Obi-Wan directed. Anakin gave him a quizzical look. "To get our speeder," the Jedi explained.

"And then we're going to..?" the boy changed the statement to a question halfway through making it, when he seemed to realise he wasn't sure what Obi-Wan had in mind.

"Look the Syndicate up in the Temple archives," Obi-Wan finished for his padawan. "To see if there is anything to the governor's uneasiness on the subjects of Miss Sigrid and his campaign."

The data towers of the Jedi Archives displayed their virtually endless volume in stacks upon columns upon rows of glowing data boards. This centre was widely accepted as the most expansive collection of knowledge on Coruscant, and possibly in the entire galaxy. Out of necessity, only Jedi were allowed access to it. This allowed for the calm, quiet atmosphere, which was of great benefit. After spending the last day out in busy parts of the city, Obi-Wan was immensely happy to re-immerse himself in the serenity of the Temple. He needed to think clearly.

So it figured that as soon as he and Anakin set foot in the Archive hall, a jet-haired youth trotted over rather noisily.

"Hey Ani," the young teenager spoke in a volume too boisterous for the resonant hall. The sound echoed, but as always, the youth remained oblivious. "Everyone says you're on a secret mission for the Chancellor. Is it true?"

Instead of looking up at the older boy, Anakin continued on his way, back straight, trying to match Obi-Wan's purposeful gate as they headed for the closest computer interface. "It's not a secret. Chancellor Palpatine just wanted us for it because he knows us and trusts us."

Not exactly humble, Obi-Wan thought, but at least the boy had avoided regressing into childish exuberance. Anakin seemed to bounce between being juvenile and overly serious. Sometimes he couldn't avoid being younger than his peers, but, especially when he knew Obi-Wan was paying attention, the boy could overcompensate for the age difference. It didn't help to have certain others constantly pestering him about that blasted prophecy.

"Ryu, it would be advisable to lower your voice," the Jedi Master cautioned.

"Oh, sorry," the young man replied, his tone hushed considerably. "I guess it's better to have you tell me than Mistress Nu." Anakin huffed in agreement at the mention of the pedagogue, but Obi-Wan managed to keep his opinion silent. There was hardly a Jedi on Coruscant who had not been reprimanded for something by the remarkably acrid old woman.

Unable to find a way to refute the padawan's observation, Obi-Wan changed the subject. "Our business here is important, Ryu. I'm sure yours is as well." He highly doubted the teenager was here reading Jedi histories for leisure. He was the type far more likely to forget to attend a seminar because he was too caught up in a sparring match. It gave Obi-Wan a satisfaction he was ashamed to admit to that someone as concerned with aptitude as Ersha Dargo should have an apprentice like Ryu. Perhaps it was the Force's way of building Ersha's patience. But this line of thinking made Obi-Wan immediately wonder what this implied the Force was trying to teach _him_; he was quickly humbled.

"Master Dargo wants me to cook our meal tonight, so I was looking for a recipe." The youth's features twisted into a grimace. "Why do I have to _cook?_ I'm trying to become a Jedi, not a chef."

It wasn't really Obi-Wan's place to explain the importance of practical skills to the padawan. "I'm sure there's a reason," he commented lightly. They had approached the computer interface terminal, and he took a seat, leaning forward on the table. He entered the name of the company Anakin had mentioned. "This was it, the Amalric Core Syndicate?" he asked his padawan, who stood beside him watching over his shoulder. Anakin nodded.

"I'm going to go get something to eat," Ryu stated seemingly to no one in particular. Then, to Anakin, "You wanna come, Ani?"

The boy considered for a moment, looking up to Ryu then back to Obi-Wan, who remained focused on his screen. The Jedi Master would prefer that Anakin choose to stay, even if just to be attentive. He was sure the boy was getting hungry, though, and frankly, he was in no dire need of his assistance at this point. He knew Anakin liked Ryu, even though he was often the brunt of the older boy's jokes. In Anakin's mind, the chance to be friends with someone older and supposedly more mature seemed to outweigh that.

Anakin hesitated noticeably. His eyes settled on Obi-Wan so long the Jedi Master felt compelled to turn his head towards the boy. He raised a questioning eyebrow, which seemed to seal the padawan's decision somehow. "No, we have work to do right now," Anakin told the older boy.

"Sure, I'll see you later then," Ryu replied nonchalantly. "Bye Obi," he added with a grin that implied mischief.

Obi-Wan did his best not to react to the teenager's taunts. Ryu had never treated him with the level of respect due a Jedi Master. The paranoid part of Obi-Wan had thought it Master Dargo's influence at first, but he'd come to learn that Ryu had a problem with being uncouth in general. He was in many ways the exact opposite of what Obi-Wan hoped his own padawan would be at the same age.

"That's the company?" Anakin asked, taking an interesting in the information on the screen.

Obi-Wan nodded as he continued scanning through the file his search had brought up. So far, everything seemed perfectly normal. "The Amalric Core Syndicate. According to this, it's comprised of seven companies in Sectors 20 through 25."

"What do they do?" the boy slowly lowered himself to the floor, taking up a comfortable position next to his master's chair.

Obi-Wan frowned, and skimmed through some more information. It all seemed very vague. He found the syndicate's mission statement, which used large words but with no clear purpose. But nothing in the whole entry suggested exactly what it was the organization did. "I'm not sure," he had to admit, his tone curious. Anakin glanced up at the screen, looked away, and did all but sigh in boredom.

Pulling up the Coruscant holonet, Obi-Wan accessed the recent public records. By law, limited campaign information had to be released to the public. Which included lists of corporate contributors. Pulling up the file on Governor Lamont's recent running, Obi-Wan was easily able to find that indeed the syndicate was listed. So he was certain Anakin hadn't misheard. He brought up the syndicate file again. "Padawan." The boy gave a hum of acknowledgement as he settled in against the side of the chair. "Did Miss Sigrid happen to say who the Governor should contact in her message?"

"No, Master. She didn't mention anyone else," Anakin replied.

There were a few names of Syndicate employees scattered throughout the file, but no specific contact information for the organization. It all seemed rather thrown together, which was uncharacteristic of Archive records. However, the Jedi had been known to be lax in their scrutiny of submitted articles on subjects perceived as less important. Obi-Wan had certainly never heard of this Syndicate, which was logical since Coruscant was a vast planet; however, it seemed that an association so nearby with enough wealth to donate considerably in such a way would be more prominent.

Obi-Wan decided this warranted some further probing. As there was no contact information listed for the Syndicate itself, he picked out an individual's name and searched the records. It yielded only one result- a man who owned a chain of furniture manufacturing outlets in Sector 23. Obi-Wan would have a hard time contacting this individual, however, as he had died four years ago.

It was not impossible that the entry for the Syndicate was old, so Obi-Wan tried another name. This time it matched with a speeder manufacturer from Sector 21, who had passed away almost a decade before. One after another, each individual listed as a member of the Syndicate turned out to have been deceased at least two years. Obi-Wan's curiosity had become suspicion, and his suspicion outright suspect. He hastily placed his datapad into the information transfer slot and uploaded all the files he had found.

Anakin stirred, sitting up straighter and taking notice of his Master's sudden urgency. "What is it? Did you find them?"

"I found," Obi-Wan began coolly, "that this so called campaign contributor is a fraud."

That piqued the boy's attention, and he quickly pulled himself up off the floor by the arm of the stationary chair. "Are we leaving again?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan stood as well, determination settling in, along with a rising amount of irritation. He very much disliked being lied to, or being carefully misled.

He would have liked to take the time to stop by the Temple dining hall, and he was certain Anakin would have as well. But it was necessary for the boy to learn where priorities in a mission lay, and sometimes a hot meal was far from a priority. "We're going to confront Miss Sigrid about this." As he walked, he pulled out his comm and entered the number of the orphanage. "I'd like to speak with Miss Sigrid please," he demanded politely but leaving no room for pleasantries.

"May I ask who's requesting?" the unfamiliar voice on the other end inquired.

"Jedi Master Kenobi," Obi-Wan replied in a weighty tone. "Tell her I am coming back to the orphanage to speak with her."

"I'm sorry sir," the young voice, probably that of a volunteer, replied. "Miss Sigrid isn't working today."

Obi-Wan's pace fell with his zeal. "Not in?" he asked rhetorically.

"No sir."

"Blast," Obi-Wan hissed. His eyes slid down to his padawan, who regarded him with concern. Raising the comm back to his lips, Obi-Wan replied in an unthankful tone, "Thank you." He clipped the communicator back to his belt and came to a stop, hands settling on hips in frustration. It was evident that something was amiss with the Governor's campaign. More worrisome, however, was the darker implication, the possibility that there was some sort of cover up or plot connected to the kidnappings. Of course, if there was no connection, Obi-Wan was only wasting precious time. Yet all signs thus far had led him in this direction. Which was why he wanted to pursue it as quickly as possible.

"Master?" Anakin asked tentatively.

Obi-Wan tried to consider his options logically. And logically, there were few options. He had no way to know where Miss Sigrid was now, and trying to find her would only end up in a pointless trek across the planet. What they did know, however, was that she had been at Dex's every night for the past week. They could go there in the evening and wait for her. It was a slim hope, but their only one.

"We'll have to stay here until evening," Obi-Wan replied, much to his exasperation. "Then we'll go to Dex's and talk with Miss Sigrid."

Knowing it was the only option didn't make it any easier to swallow. Obi-Wan bit the inside of his cheek in frustration. It wasn't that he minded waiting, but he very much minded the idea of being unable to do anything to help the kidnapped orphans. They were Force knew where- with slavers, or worse- and there was nothing he could do about it. Not at the moment. Jedi had been assigned to the case for a reason. It was out of his hands, and it shouldn't be. No, he corrected himself; it was out of his control, but still in the control of the Force.

He knew that, but he wasn't sure he believed it.

Vyne hated this place, hated every little detail of it- the greasy smell of the air, the obnoxious plastic seat cushions, that filthy Besalisk who ran the dump. Everything about the diner reeked of middle class optimism. It was not at all the sort of place Vyne had envisioned himself frequenting as the governor's personal security agent. But such meetings couldn't very well be held at an upper city restaurant. The young man had begrudgingly picked this location himself due to its incongruity. No one would be looking for them there.

The only decent thing about the diner was its signature drink. But Vyne had just finished his second glass of the night and still there was no sign of Kala. A man could only take so much, he thought, before no amount of drink could quell his impatience. He was seriously beginning to consider leaving when the petite blonde walked in the door.

"You're late," he said, letting his annoyance show. Vyne considered himself quite well-mannered, but even he had his limits.

"I was busy," Kala explained as she took her seat across from Vyne.

"Well the governor's schedule is a blank slate." The young security agent let his reply seep sarcasm. Usually these meetings went well; sometimes he even enjoyed them. Kala was easy on the eyes and the job was typically simple. But right now he was sick of wasting time, so Vyne cut right to the first order of business. He produced a small holodisc from an inside jacket pocket and slid it across the table. "You need to be more careful," he said pointedly.

Kala eyed Vyne's unhappy expression before slowly flicking the holo on. Even in the monochromatic blue of the preview projection, it was quite clear that the two people locked in a passionate kiss were Kala and the governor. The young woman's cheeks flashed a slight shade of red as she quickly shut the image off. "Where did you get this?"

Vyne leaned forward, placing his arms on the table. "I have explained to you that the governor, like all politicians, has enemies, haven't I?" It was a rhetorical question, as he suspected Kala knew very well. She had her moments, but she was certainly not as dim-witted as she sometimes appeared to be. "You're lucky I got to this before it got to the press. Or to Misses Lamont, for that matter," he sneered.

Kala took the remark silently at first. Then her expression tightened and back stiffened defensively. "You can't exactly take the high-road here. You're the one who makes these meetings possible."

"I don't care what goes on at your little rendezvous," Vyne replied truthfully. He saw nothing wrong with the governor taking a mistress; it was common in the society he had grown up in. And Kala was, in his opinion, a fine choice. But that wasn't the issue here. "It's my job to make sure it stays quiet," he explained crossly.

Folding her arms, she retorted pointedly, "Then why are you mad at me?"

The response was typical of the beautiful but ignorant, Vyne thought. He spoke slowly, patronizingly this time. "I find the rooms, I make sure they're clear, I do everything I can. So I don't think it's unreasonable to expect you to darken the windows. Is that too difficult a thing to ask?"

Through grinding teeth, Kala replied with a begrudging, "No."

Vyne nodded and smiled at his small victory. "Good," he said, his voice and posture returning to a state more suitable of such a well-bred man. Losing his temper was a rare thing, but Vyne knew it was beyond a man's control sometimes. He was glad that matter was resolved, and was now eager to finish his business and get out of here. "Now, as for tonight's location-"

"I can't," Kala cut him off shortly.

Vyne was more offended by being cut off than by her refusal. There was really only so much a man could take, even from a delectable young woman. "And why not?" he asked curtly.

"I told you I'd been busy," Kala reminded him. "I still have something to take care of." Her associate's ire didn't escape her, and she purposefully added, "It's important for the governor's… integrity. He'll be grateful, I promise you."

Throwing his hands in the air, Vyne scooted out of the booth and stood. He was more than ready to get out of this dive. "Fine," he said. "I'll tell him you're not coming and you can accept responsibility. I have more important places to be right now." With a last contemptuous glare, the young agent turned and exited the diner. He had had _quite _enough debasing of his character for one evening.

The back room of Dex's diner was a little cramped, but adequate for the task at hand. Obi-Wan and Anakin were both huddled around the small holovid in the corner of the room. The normal security cameras provided visual surveillance, and Dex had been kind enough to allow them to install an audio transmitter under the table Kala frequented. The timing on the two feeds was slightly off, but the setup sufficed.

The voices of Kala and the young man came through quietly. It wouldn't do to have them hearing their conversation playing in the back room. Kala had just arrived and the conversation had yet to leave the superficial. Obi-Wan had been even more concerned about her tardiness than the young man seemed to be. Perhaps 'young' was a poor description, Obi-Wan thought, as the man looked to be about his own age. His petulance made him seem younger, though.

Now that Kala had arrived, the Jedi became only more tense. His planned hinged on getting some kernel of information out of this exchange. He really had no way of knowing if these meetings were relevant to the case at all. But in his afternoon meditations, Obi-Wan had begun to piece together all the clues and hunches. One of the conclusions he had reached was that it would be no good to confront Kala outright as she wasn't likely to simply tell him whatever it was she knew. And Obi-Wan was no interrogator, had no intention of being that. So he watched and listened, his padawan obediently remaining silent at his side.

"_You need to be more careful,"_ the dark-haired man said as he slid something across the table to Kala.

"What's that?" Anakin whispered, as though Obi-Wan had some way of knowing already. The Jedi Master hushed the boy with a gentle wave of his hand. They watched as Kala illuminated a still holo. It took them both a second to make it out, but then the image became evident. Anakin's eyebrows arched and he gave his Master a questioning look, but Obi-Wan pretended not to notice.

"_You're lucky I got to this before it got to the press," _the man was now saying with a sneer. _"Or to Misses Lamont, for that matter." _

It was more than clear now why Kala and Lamont had both seemed nervous when the other was brought up. Obi-Wan had encountered such indiscretions on past missions, but his disgust for such base activities hadn't faded. Any amount of respect he may have had for the governor, beyond basic human courtesy, immediately dissolved.

"Master," Anakin whispered. When the Jedi remained focused on the surveillance holo, the boy tugged lightly at his sleeve.

Obi-Wan was sure Anakin wanted to ask something. That was the reason for the majority of the boy's communication with him, it seemed. And while he knew it was part of his responsibility as the Master to teach the boy, there were some questions he would really rather not have to answer. Slowly, his eyes lowered to meet his padawan's.

"What's a 'rendezvous'?"

From across the room Dex, who had been doing his best to stay out of the way, gave his old friend an amused look. It did little to help Obi-Wan's nerves. He shot the Besalisk a sharp look, and Dex slowly resumed his cleaning of the countertop.

Obi-Wan tried to maintain a dignified composure as he spoke to his inquisitive padawan. "They- the governor and Miss Sigrid- were meeting...and having… relations," he said, horribly haltingly. He prayed desperately he wouldn't have to go into more detail. This was no where near the time or place for such a conversation. Part of him thought it was silly to be so awkward about it, but the idea made him so uncomfortable he actually felt himself reddening, much to his chagrin.

Anakin's eyebrows shot up for a frightening moment, then he nodded slightly. "Oh, that," he said, understandingly. "My mom explained that to me."

For perhaps the first time, Obi-Wan thanked the Force Anakin had been raised by his mother. Then he couldn't help notice the boy suppressing a grin at his Master's modesty. Obi-Wan saw now the boy's knowledge made sense, having grown up the way he did. He realised it was the most awkward he had felt around Anakin in years, and was quick to try to move past it by turning back to the surveillance holo.

"_I still have something to take care of," _Kala was saying pointedly. She seemed suddenly much sharper, Obi-Wan noticed to his surprise. _"It's important for the governor's… integrity. He'll be grateful. I promise." _The Jedi easily caught the underlying implications in the statements. His recent embarrassment was forgotten as his suspicion piqued.

The young man departed, leaving Kala to pay his bill. Obi-Wan saw his opportunity. Without hesitation, Obi-Wan motioned for his padawan to follow him out the back door. As silently as possible, they slipped into the dark alley.

"When she leaves, we'll watch which way she goes," the Jedi Master commanded his apprentice. "Then we'll follow her. I'll pilot." Anakin seemed ready to object spiritedly until he saw the stony, unyielding expression on his Master's face. Anakin looked a little surprised and acquiesced wordlessly. When it came down to business, Obi-Wan took a no-nonsense approach and didn't feel the least bit apologetic about it. His padawan was going to learn that eventually.

Crouching in the shadows, the Jedi were able to see Kala as she walked towards her speeder, but remained hidden from her view. She settled into the pilot's seat, but before starting the ignition, made a careful check of the passenger's seat. Obi-Wan's brows knit in curiosity. Then Kala started the speeder and pulled up out of the landing spot. As she turned the craft towards her destination, Obi-Wan went ice cold. He recognised the small, unconscious figure in the passenger's seat.

"Filch!" Anakin gasped in shock. Had Obi-Wan wanted to stop the boy, he couldn't have. His padawan went bounding hopelessly after the speeder on foot, but by now it was far up in the lane of traffic zooming above them.

"Get in," Obi-Wan ordered in what was almost a yell, sprinting for their rented speeder. He took his seat behind the controls and hastily fastened the safety restraint, but Anakin was still staring at the sky. "Padawan, _now_!" This time, he did yell. It was enough to break Anakin from his startled gawking. The boy rushed to the passenger's side and threw himself awkwardly into the seat. The instant his door closed, Obi-Wan gunned the engine and took off in the direction Kala had headed.

"There she is!" Anakin shouted, pointing frantically.

"I see her," Obi-Wan replied shortly. They'd managed to catch up with Kala and were now following several speeder lengths behind her in a fast-moving traffic lane.

"Why aren't you speeding up? We can catch her if we go around these speeders, Master," Anakin insisted, sounding pained.

The boy clearly wished he were in the pilot's seat at the moment. He obviously felt himself more fit for the task. Had their goal been to catch up with Kala, he might have been. But under the current circumstances, Anakin's franticness only served to confirm Obi-Wan's decision to take the controls this time. "We're not trying to catch her," the Jedi Master affirmed.

It took a second for the statement to register with young Skywalker. His face was red with the sudden surge of adrenaline. "Why not?" he asked emphatically, unable to control his disapproval of unreasonable Obi-Wan's decision.

The Jedi Master did his best not to let his young padawan's fiery outburst unsettle him. He knew the boy was concerned for Filch. "If she finds out we're following her, Filch will only be in more danger," Obi-Wan explained as slowly as he could, glancing sideways to make brief eye-contact with the boy. It was all he dared to take his eyes off his piloting, but he hoped Anakin would catch more of his calming projections through the Force.

The boy's laboured breathing slowed gradually. As his brain slowly overtook his emotions, he flushed, this time in embarrassment rather than zeal. "I guess so," Anakin admitted.

Obi-Wan was quick to forgive the boy's knee-jerk reaction. This was only their first mission with such stakes; however, it wouldn't be their last. "It's all right, padawan," Obi-Wan assured him. "You're an apprentice to learn by experience. Try remembering your lessons on focus. Be rational."

"I know, Master," Anakin replied obediently with a fervent nod. Still, he watched Kala's speeder nervously as it banked out of sight for a moment. Obi-Wan saw where it had turned and followed, arching an eyebrow at his padawan as if to reiterate his point.

They had made their way deeper into the factory district, as evidenced by the smoke-spewing towers topping the buildings all along the airway. In the night of any other planet, it might have been impossible to see the inky clouds against the sky, but the constantly lit city made it possible on Coruscant. Obi-Wan was thankful to be in an enclosed cockpit.

Suddenly, Kala's speeder shot over to the far right side of the skyway and dipped out of sight. The move caught Obi-Wan off guard, and he saw the tunnel to the lower city only after he'd passed it. Anakin's head snapped around and he gave his master a lightly admonishing look, but knew better than to say anything.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, the young Jedi made a quick decision. With a sharp jerk backwards on the steering column, the speeder rapidly ascended upwards, out of the flow of the skyway. "Hang on," Obi-Wan cautioned, seconds before pulling back into a loop. The Jedi held his breath as they narrowly missed scraping undercarriages with the speeders in the skyway above them. But when they levelled out, they were now miraculously back near the tunnel. Obi-Wan zoomed down into the pitch abyss.

Anakin, who had been bracing himself against his seat arm and the floorboard, slowly relaxed. "Sorry," Obi-Wan said. "It needed to be done. We couldn't afford to lose her."

Nodding slowly, Anakin replied, "Just… try not to do it again." The boy's better piloting instincts must have been assaulted by the haphazard manoeuvre. Obi-Wan's stomach wholeheartedly agreed.

But even the worst motion sickness wasn't reason to be distracted from the chase. As the tunnel levelled out, the Jedi found themselves skimming along the surface of a lower city street. Drains from the surface kept the pedways and streets of sub-cities covered with an invariable layer of grimy water. The gusts from speeder engines sprayed up a fine, constant mist, making it harder to see. The half-burnout neon signs provided a bleary light that was more irritating than helpful. It took a great deal of streamlined focus through the Force for Obi-Wan to maintain a lock on his target. Fortunately, the distance between them did provide him with anonymity- Kala didn't seem to notice she was being trailed.

Anakin took in the foreign sights with curiosity and a bit of trepidation. "Master, where is she taking him?" he asked, his tone edgy. Though he had bickered with Filch, it was clear that he didn't want anything bad to happen to the orphan. For all his faults, the boy was very kind at heart, Obi-Wan noted.

"I'm not entirely certain, padawan," Obi-Wan replied, trying not to lose his honing grasp on Kala's speeder. He had an idea of where she might be headed, but his attention couldn't be split at the moment to explain his suspicions. He only hoped his apprentice realised this.

Unfortunately, Anakin managed to miss it. "Well why did she want to kidnap him in the first place? I thought she was on our side."

"It's not a matter of sides, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied. "It's-" he stopped as he saw Kala's speeder slow and pull into the bay of an unmarked building at the end of the street. Slowing his own craft instinctively, Obi-Wan squinted through the haze. The tall, narrow structure was windowless and perfectly anonymous.

Obi-Wan quickly spotted a side alleyway wide enough accommodate the onyx rental speeder. He turned into it and gently landed the craft before shutting it down. Wasting no time, he quickly opened his door and stepped out onto the glistening pavement. Once his padawan had followed suit, he briefly considered whether or not he should lock the doors. If he did, only Anakin's palm-print would open them. It was why he had left them unlocked at Dex's, and he was glad for it now. But down here, leaving it unlocked and out of his sight probably wasn't a good idea, so he reluctantly decided to secure the vehicle.

"How are we going to get in?" Anakin asked, nodding in the direction of the building Kala had entered.

Obi-Wan didn't want to chance looking out into the street, just in case there were any guards alerted to their presence. Besides, he doubted they would simply be able to walk up to the front and knock. They would need a better vantage point to begin with. Craning his head back, he glanced up at the buildings they were between. Both stretched up six stories, the same height as the building Kala had taken Filch into. Had he been by himself, Obi-Wan might have been inclined to Force-jumped the distance. But Anakin's jump wasn't nearly that powerful or accurate yet.

"Should we climb it?" the boy asked, following his Master's gaze.

Studying the relatively smooth surface of the building, Obi-Wan didn't feel that was a safe prospect. "I doubt we'd be able to," he mused.

"We might," Anakin insisted, walking over to the wall and running his fingers along it. "See, there are some grooves where these panels come together." He gripped above his head with his fingers while his boots searched for a foothold.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan cautioned.

"It's ok," the boy insisted as he latched himself onto the wall a few feet above the ground. "I'm not going to fall."

"Padawan," Obi-Wan called more insistently.

"Mater, we've got to hurry-"

"Anakin!" the Jedi hissed, not wanting to call too much attention from any passers-by.

Finally, the boy stopped his intrepid scaling and looked over to where Obi-Wan stood by an open door. "Oh," he said, chagrined. Dropping to the ground, he quickly trotted over and followed his Master into the building.

They had entered a long hallway with rooms lining both sides. Each door was ordained with a fading number and questionable locking mechanism. It appeared to be an apartment buildings or hostel of some kind. The Jedi quickly found the lift and keyed in the number for the top floor.

Anakin watched the numbers changing all too slowly. Biting his lip, he groaned, "Come on, hurry up," as though the machine were listening to him.

"Patience," Obi-Wan reminded him gently. He had already sensed that Anakin was taut with apprehension; he seemed to grow more urgent and questioning with each passing moment. Obi-Wan felt the same urgency to rescue Filch, but also felt reasonably certain none of the orphans' lives were in immediate danger. If his suspicions were correct, the Syndicate was a front for a slaving organization. And as grim as that prospect was, at least it meant the children probably hadn't been physically harmed. Their captors wouldn't want to attempt selling damaged goods, the Jedi reflected, his stomach churning at the horrific truth. He could only hope the orphans hadn't already been taken away.

"Why would Miss Sigrid want to kidnap Filch anyway? I don't understand," Anakin asked with a mixture of anxiety and frustration.

Drawing a deep breath, Obi-Wan tried to explain as eloquently as he could. "Filch is our only witness to the kidnappings. Without his testimony, we don't have any direct evidence of a link."

"Link to what?" Anakin

"Between Kala and the Niktos who kidnapped the orphans," Obi-Wan said. "I should have realised before that he needed protection." He lamented, running a hand over his face regretfully. The lift came to a stop, and he led the way out and down the hallway. He was counting on a typical roof access hatch somewhere on the floor, and was not disappointed. While he palmed open the latch and climbed up, he continued his explanation. "The change in the orphanage's security system meant that no one was out in the halls to see the intruders. In fact," Obi-Wan said slowly as the realisation sunk in fully, "it ensured it." His eyes closed in conviction. "Which I should have realised before."

As Anakin climbed up the ladder after his Master, he asked, "You mean it was a plan?" He seemed horrified by the thought. "And Kala knew about it?"

"So it would seem," Obi-Wan said, waving towards the now-visible 'Syndicate' building several rooftops away. He eyed the gap to the nearest building and decided it wouldn't be difficult to cross at all. Without a word, the Jedi took a step then leapt onto the damp rooftop. "Come on," he said, turning back to his young apprentice, "you can make it."

Nodding, Anakin heaved himself across the meter and a half gap. Obi-Wan was standing by in case he had to grab the boy, but the precaution proved unnecessary. It was an instance where Obi-Wan was glad his padawan was self-confident and rather fearless. In the same situation, many fresh apprentices might have hesitated much more and caused themselves unnecessary worry. The Jedi Master quickly made his way towards the next gap.

"Master," Anakin asked as he followed, pulling his cloak around himself to shut out the slightly chilly night air, "why would she do that?" He radiated distress and confusion.

Obi-Wan hesitated a little before replying, "For a cut of the profits, I would assume. Which is how the so called Syndicate was contributing to the Governor's campaign. Hence her statement earlier that she was protecting the Governor's integrity." He was only just putting these pieces together himself, but it was all beginning to make sense as he did. With another leap, Obi-Wan landed on the rooftop of the next building, across the street from the Syndicate. The Jedi crouched and made his way to the edge, where he could clearly observe their target.

Anakin quickly followed, crawling to the edge to join Obi-Wan. "Master, profits for what?" he asked in a whisper.

Though he was afforded a small piece of mind by his suspicions, Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he wanted to share them with Anakin. They might only make him more edgy and volatile. The last thing that would ease the boy's conscience was the prospect of slavery for his friend. But Obi-Wan was reminded of his own apprenticeship. Qui-Gon had always maintained that if a padawan was going to risk his own well-being on a mission, he deserved to know just as much about it as his master. Despite his reservations in this instance, Obi-Wan decided to uphold that standard.

"I believe," Obi-Wan began slowly, "the orphans may be sold into slavery."

Anakin's face immediately went blank as his breathing hitched in his throat. Then his blonde eyebrows began to knit as he swallowed hard. "We can't let them," he said in a soft, determined voice that was almost a growl. The statement left no room for questioning.

"Anakin, you mustn't let yourself become angry," Obi-Wan warned. The boy's eyes were now fixed intently on the building across the street and a dangerous flicker of anger radiated from him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Obi-Wan physically turned his apprentice towards him and away from the building. "Anakin," he repeated the name evenly in an attempt to call the boy's attention back. "You _must_ remain clear-headed. I can't let you come with me if you're going to have clouded judgment. And I need you there with me. Do you understand?"

Slowly, the boy's intensity ebbed and he nodded. "Yes, Master," he said. "I understand."

"Good," Obi-Wan said, a little relieved but still, if he were honest with himself, a little on edge. There was enough stress that accompanied this first field trial of the Master/Padawan team without the added complication of Anakin's history in slavery. For a moment, he wondered whether it might be wiser to contact local law enforcement and have them infiltrate the base. But no, that posed too great a risk to the children held inside. Besides, it was possible the Governor's corrupt administration extended to the police. The Jedi would have to go it alone.

The gap between their rooftop and the Syndicate's was larger than the other two had been. They had the entire width of the street to cover, which amounted to about five metres. If they were to get a running head start, they'd have about that same amount of distance on their roof. Calculations had never been his strongest point, but Obi-Wan's instincts and experience told him that distance was manageable.

Anakin, however, was a different matter. "Do you think you can make this jump, padawan?" Obi-Wan asked. He knew it was probably a futile question, as the boy was likely to never think himself not capable of a challenge.

Still, the padawan's eyes grew a little wide at the prospect. The expression betrayed his confident answer of, "Sure."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Obi-Wan looked away for a moment in contemplation. With Force-enhanced speed, Anakin was probably capable of making it. Probably. It was difficult to judge the boy's skills. Raw power he certainly had, but untested, this skill was a risky bet. Yet what other alternative was there?

"We'd better leave our cloaks here," the Jedi Master declared, having made his decision. "They'll cause too much wind resistance." Obi-Wan shrugged his own mantle off and headed for the far edge of the rooftop. Anakin scooted back out of the way, watching nervously as his Master prepared himself.

Obi-Wan stretched his arms and legs, loosening his muscles and joints. More importantly, though, he consciously shut out the distractions around him. The focus of his eyes and mind narrowed until they only included his length of roof and destination on the other side of the gap. He hesitated only a split-second before exploding into a dead sprint. His boots pattered lightly through the thin layer of water, but the Jedi took no notice. At precisely the right moment, he pushed off the very edge of the roof and sprang out into the open air with a surge of the Force.

A split second later, his boots slammed into the metal surface of the Syndicate rooftop. Obi-Wan was surprised to find he actually had extra momentum from the Force-speed jump, and had to roll forward to keep himself from falling flat on his face. He managed to make it look like an intended part of the landing, though, and was soon back on his feet. _That wasn't so difficult, _Obi-Wan reflected confidently.

But his composure wavered as he viewed Anakin on the other rooftop, slowly walking to his start point to prepare himself for his own jump. He looked so small and young, and he was, Obi-Wan reflected. He was only 12, but then again, he was so much more than a normal child. His power, his potential, his destiny… Obi-Wan cringed inwardly as he always did at the slightest mention of the prophecy. It was the last thing he needed to be reminded of right now. The thought that he might cause the Chosen One to leap to his death nearly sent his composure from wavering to imploding.

More worrisome, though, was the thought that he might cause _Anakin_ to leap to his death. The realisation startled Obi-Wan, but the feeling was undeniable. His stomach clenched nervously as the boy began swinging his arms in preparation.

With heartfelt, full effort, Anakin ran. Obi-Wan could sense the boy's every nerve straining to focus. The Jedi Master did his best to relinquish his nervousness to the Force, even as he was struck with unbidden terror. He could have sworn his heart stopped as Anakin leapt.

Anakin was sailing towards the rooftop with such purpose that it seemed for a moment as if he might make a clean landing. Obi-Wan had tried to bolster the boy's power with his own, but it was really a vain effort. Anakin quickly reached the apex of his jump all too quickly. In an instant, he began rapidly descending. As soon as Anakin realised it himself, a surge of unbridled panic surged out from him through the Force.

With lightning reflexes usually reserved for only the most serious of battles, Obi-Wan shot towards the roof's edge. His right hand stretched out, clamping firmly around the boy's slim wrist. The whole thing happened in a split second, leaving no time for thought, only action.

It was an nonnegotiable bit of physics that pulled Obi-Wan off the edge of the roof. Anakin was light, but his weight was enough to upset Obi-Wan's precarious balance. With a terrible squeak, his boots lost what little traction they had on the slick rooftop. For a gut-wrenching moment, both he and his padawan looked to be headed straight down the smooth side of the building to the street six stories below.

But Obi-Wan's free left hand somehow found the narrow ledge of the rooftop as he tumbled by. He latched on tightly. There was no time to brace himself or cushion the impact with the Force. As the fall was abruptly halted, the young man's left shoulder absorbed the sharp jolt of both he and Anakin's weight. At nearly the same instant, Obi-Wan's unprotected side slammed into the building. It was moments like this that were the reason for pain tolerance training. Almost instinctively, the Jedi blocked out the feelings, relegating them in his mind to the status of minor annoyance. This was a technique Jedi were taught from an early age, and for good reasons.

Anakin seemed completely unaffected by his own impact. It was a result of adrenaline more than any conscious effort, however. The rapid swell of panic that had built only a few seconds ago while still in mid-jump was released in a frenetic effort to get his feet on some sort of solid surface.

"Don't struggle," Obi-Wan tried to caution his padawan verbally. Anakin wasn't going to be able to climb up to the roof and it certainly wouldn't help Obi-Wan's precarious grip to have him flailing about. However, the Jedi seemed to have underestimated just how much wind had been knocked out of his lungs by the sudden impact, and his verbal warning came out as a hoarse gasp for air.

That alone seemed to be enough to bring the boy to his senses. He stopped his wild kicking, and wisely threw his free hand around Obi-Wan's wrist. A few seconds passed while both caught their breath. It didn't have a very calming effect on either- Obi-Wan because he was struggling to maintain his grip and Anakin because he had the opportunity to see just how precarious his Master's grip was. Their eyes met and Obi-Wan could clearly see that Anakin was only narrowly subduing what he sensed to be a great deal of panic. For his own part, Obi-Wan was much better at maintaining a stolid façade while keeping his turmoil inside. Yet even he was having trouble blocking out the feeling of the metal edge of the roof slipping away gradually and the sight of his padawan dangling helplessly at his wrist.

Both Jedi seemed to simultaneously come to the realisation that something must be done immediately. Obi-Wan had an idea, but the further danger it presented caused him to second guess himself. So Anakin was the first to suggest, tentatively but with an underlying urgency, "Should I try to climb up, Master?"

Obi-Wan glanced from the dangling boy up to his all too weak grip on the ledge. The idea of having Anakin climb up using him, effectively, as a rope didn't seem all that promising. He could try to somehow Force-lift one or both of them, but that was something he felt in no way mentally or emotionally prepared for at the moment. He had never done particularly well with such Force manipulation, and especially not under dire circumstances.

This brought Obi-Wan back to his first instinctive solution. Logic told him it would work, but something in his gut resisted the idea with unusual ferocity. He gauged the distance between Anakin and the rooftop for probably the fourth time, and once again came to the conclusion that it was within the boy's capability to Force-jump. Anakin had practiced the technique quite often for such short distances, though Obi-Wan had yet to allow him to try anything more than a few meters. It was feasible, theoretically, but that didn't stop Obi-Wan from being wrought with apprehension at the idea. And he couldn't for the life of him understand why of all times he should choose this one to uncharacteristically lose his composure.

Of course, he was dangling from a six story rooftop. And as the growing strain on his shoulder reminded him, there was little time to make a decision. He had to do _something, _and there seemed only one thing to do. Swallowing his intense dislike of the idea, he turned his attention back down to his padawan. "You can Force jump the distance up to the roof," he stated. It wasn't a question- he didn't want it to be. If ever there was a time for Anakin to be entirely confident in himself, this needed to be it.

There was an initial shock and wariness on the boy's part. He glanced up at the rooftop, seeming a little doubtful. Naturally his recently failed attempt at a different kind of jump had damaged his confidence. But then the boy switched his focus from the rooftop to Obi-Wan. Despite the young Jedi Master's valiant attempts, he could not hide his growing discomfort and the fact that he was, quite literally, losing his grasp on the situation. In the beat of silence, there seemed to be a revelation within Anakin that the only person who could prevent them from plummeting to the pavement was him.

Anakin's disposition immediately changed. The worried crinkle in his brow turned down into a determined, if still boyish, expression. "I can do it, Master," he stated with confidence that seemed unshakeable. But then again, Obi-Wan wasn't that worried about Anakin's belief in himself. And presently the sensation of the muscles and tendons of his shoulder tangibly stretching to their limit was overriding any of his own doubts. He nodded silent acknowledgement and did what he could to flatten himself against the side of the building so as not to obstruct the boy's path.

The padawan ran through his short breathing exercises in preparation for the jump, aware that he had little time to dawdle. He had shifted his grip to either side of Obi-Wan's wrist, and within a few seconds, was prepared. They had practiced the manoeuvre so many times that Obi-Wan could intuitively sense the boy's silent count before the jump. _One…two…three!_

There was a slight tug on Obi-Wan's wrist as Anakin launched himself up in a blur. Even the small amount of pressure was almost enough to cause the Jedi Master to lose his hold on the upturned metal ledge of the roof, but he very quickly grabbed a hold with his now free hand as well. By the time he had done this, Anakin had landed squarely on the rooftop. The tension in Obi-Wan's arms, physically or psychologically imposed, was eased. He let out an inaudible sigh of relief. His still traumatized lungs didn't like it much, but he paid them little mind. His relief endowed him with a tranquillity more becoming of a Jedi Master in such a situation, and he was able to rather easily boost himself up onto the blessedly solid surface of the roof with the aid of the Force.

As soon as his feet were under him, Obi-Wan had a very strong urge to collapse onto the rooftop. It was something that would have been entirely acceptable under the circumstances. That is, had he not been a Jedi Master. After three years, he was just really getting used to the responsibility of the position. It somehow didn't seem a propos on their first real mission to set an example of collapse and weakness for his padawan. They were not, Obi-Wan reminded himself, even near to finished for the day. It wasn't as though they could simply clock in and call it a day now that they'd done something difficult. There wasn't anyone to nudge him out of a brief respite anymore- he was the one to do the nudging.

And so, with a great deal of will power, Obi-Wan managed to stand up, though he was breathing rather heavily. Anakin was, too, and his eyes implored Obi-Wan for permission to rest a moment. Wordlessly, the Jedi waved in acknowledgement towards the open surface of the roof. Grateful, the padawan immediately plopped down onto his backside. Then Obi-Wan felt justified in taking a seat next to the boy, now that he was doing Anakin a favour rather than the other way around. For all his attempts at composure, however, Obi-Wan could not stop his left arm from trembling uncontrollably. Ignoring the pain, to the extent that he was able to, did not stop the physical damage. His bicep had been under such great strain that with each throbbing pulse of blood down from his shoulder, Obi-Wan's whole arm shook.

Anakin for his part was undoubtedly a little sore and had been stretching his arms and legs slowly. But his empathy, enhanced by the Force, caused him to immediately take notice of his Master's condition. As Obi-Wan pumped his hand slowly to stop the trembling, Anakin scooted a little closer. "You all right, Master?" he asked as he placed a small hand lightly on Obi-Wan's left shoulder.

The Jedi Master nodded. "Yes, I'm fine, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied gently, reaching up with his right arm to clap the boy reassuringly on the hand. Anakin scooted back a little bit as Obi-Wan flexed his left hand a few times. That exposed the deep red imprint of the gutter on his palm.

Anakin drew in a sharp breath between his teeth. "Ouch," he remarked. "I can't believe you grabbed onto the edge that fast." His boyish admiration was quickly replacing the flash of battle-hardened determination Obi-Wan had seen in him earlier. It was amazing how quickly it had come and gone, he thought. But at least he knew that will did exist, somewhere within the easygoing child.

Glancing back to the gap they had jumped between the two buildings, Anakin grinned. "That was pretty close, huh?"

It was easy to make light of the situation now that it was past, and perhaps Anakin had the right idea to brush away the close call. But as he studied the gap now, Obi-Wan's reaction was quite different. The expanse seemed larger than it had before, and he wondered how he had ever lost his senses enough to think it was reasonable to ask a boy, no matter how gifted, to attempt a jump like that. That he had managed to stop Anakin from a complete disaster was of little reassurance to Obi-Wan. Had the gap only been a few more inches, he wouldn't have been able to reach the boy at all.

It was incredible, Obi-Wan reflected, how a few inches could have such a profound effect on a person's life. The thought that he had come so close to having the other half of his Master/Padawan pairing taken from him by such a fraction of a space sent a shiver up Obi-Wan's spine. How could such small things matter? A boy jumping a few inches longer… a young man running a few inches further…

For a second, Obi-Wan felt a wave of some unidentifiable pressure hit him in the chest. He closed his eyes briefly, and quickly pulled his thoughts back towards the task at hand. They were across and that was that. Everything else was in the past.

Standing up, the Jedi Master straightened his somewhat twisted tunic and instinctively checked to see that his lightsabre was in its ready place on his belt. "All right Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his tone having shifted back to all business. "Come along." He held out his right hand as both an offer to help the boy up and a signal that there was no more time to dawdle.

The padawan moved a bit sluggishly as Obi-Wan pulled him to his feet, but he made no argument. It as obvious to him as it was to his master that being on top of the building where Filch was held would do little to help secure his young friend's release. Anakin began scanning the surface of the roof. "How are we going to get in, Master?"

Obi-Wan had made the same scan, and processed the options as he spoke. "Well, there are a few hatches for roof access." He pointed them out.

Anakin looked where Obi-Wan indicated, and nodded. "That's a good idea."

"It would be," Obi-Wan said, raising his eyebrows pointedly, "if not for the fact that they're most likely all wired to an alarm system."

"Oh," Anakin said, his voice dropping significantly. "So, how are we gonna get in?"

Anakin was clearly getting worried, but he needn't be. Obi-Wan had already decided on a better way in. "How were you planning on getting the hatch open, padawan?" he asked, trying to prompt the boy to the conclusion he'd come to.

Shrugging, Anakin replied, "I don't know."

It was a noncommittal response Obi-Wan had heard all too frequently. Anakin, he had learned, had a terribly frustrating habit of going into a kind of resigned mode if his first idea didn't work. The boy certainly needed to learn that you couldn't always be right the first time; in some cases, you could never be entirely right. Anakin just wanted to choose a solution and be done with it.

"You must have had some idea," Obi-Wan said, trying to nudge the boy along.

"Well I guess you could use your lightsabre to burn through the seal," he answered, a little reluctant.

"Precisely," Obi-Wan said. "So if through the seal, why not through another section that isn't wired? Create our own entrance, as it were."

The boy's eyes lit up with realisation of the logic. "Yeah, it would go through. The metal in these buildings probably isn't very thick." He glanced around the rather large surface of the roof. "How do we know where to go in?"

Obi-Wan looked down at the spot where they were and gently tapped his boot on the surface. Then, with some restrain of normal motion, he lowered himself to the ground and put one ear against the roof. "Tap here, will you?" he asked. Anakin did as was requested, and Obi-Wan listened for the quality of the reverberation. Unsatisfied, he moved a meter to the left and motioned for Anakin to tap again. This time, the sound was clearly that of a hollow space.

"Here," Obi-Wan said, sitting up, and then standing. He unclipped his lightsabre hilt. "There's a room or hallway here. Somewhere we can enter, anyway." That was, he hoped they could. It wouldn't really do to end up in a hallway filled with armed slavers. That would make it rather hard to simply drop in. "Wait," he told Anakin, holding up a hand as he took a moment to stretch out with the Force and probe the area they were standing over. There were certainly life forms very nearby, but none were directly underneath. Of course, that didn't mean they wouldn't be in the same room. It was impossible to tell where the walls were without proper scanning equipment.

Obi-Wan put his hand down and ignited his sabre. "This should be all right," he said, trying to sound entirely confident in the decision.

Thankfully, Anakin was entirely compliant in the matter. Eager to help out, he moved his hand towards his own hilt. "If we both cut at the same time, we can make a hole faster," he pointed out.

It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion, but for a moment, Obi-Wan hesitated. It was more from being thrown off guard than anything. Their other assignments had been entirely benign. Obi-Wan realised this was the first time Anakin had actually had to use his lightsabre for a practical purpose. It struck him that the boy might very soon be using it for combat, and that made the Jedi even more uneasy. "Anakin," he spoke in a tone that left no room for questioning, "when we get in there, there might be firing. There probably will be somewhere along the way. I want you to stay behind me."

The boy's brow crinkled into a distinct look of displeasure. "I can deflect them, Master," he insisted obstinately.

"I know you can. But this is different than practicing with a remote." Obi-Wan knew from his own experiences as a padawan that there was really no way to prepare oneself for actual combat situations. Nothing ever went quite as planned. And in this case, the argument of inexperience in the situation went for Obi-Wan as well. The last thing he needed was for Anakin to get headstrong on him. "If anyone starts shooting, stay behind me for now."

Anakin was clearly not happy with the order, but he gave a nod of assent as he ignited his lightsabre.

"We'll have to cut through quickly, in case there is anyone in there. We don't want them to have much time to react," Obi-Wan pointed out.

"I understand," Anakin replied. He held his sabre anxiously hovering just above the surface of the roof.

"All right." Obi-Wan positioned his own blade a few feet away from Anakin. "We'll cut in a circle, you go that direction and I'll go this way." He nodded in the intended directions, and Anakin in turn nodded his understanding. "Ready?"

"Ready," Anakin affirmed.

Obi-Wan tilted his weapon down slightly and the end sank down into the metal surface of the roof. Anakin started cutting as well. The two blue blades radiated heat as they scorched through carefully and quickly. They made quick work of it, and it wasn't long before Obi-Wan was able to slice through the final few centimetres. The second he did, the circular chunk of the roof started to fall away.

Before it could go very far, however, Obi-Wan had halted it with the Force. Carefully, he levitated it up and set it out of their way on the rooftop. They certainly didn't need it clattering to the floor inside and stirring up a commotion.

But it turned out it would have made little difference. As soon as the section was away, someone inside began shouting in what sounded like frantic Huttese. With no time to hesitate, Obi-Wan dropped down into the building, with Anakin following close behind.

Before his feet had even hit the floor, the Force urged Obi-Wan's weapon arm to move ever so slightly in front of his body. A blaster bolt ricocheted off the lightsabre blade and sizzled harmlessly into the wall. By the time his assailant had fired off another shot, the Jedi had instinctively felt out his target. This time, the deflected shot was aimed straight back at his enemy.

All of this transpired before Anakin had even landed behind Obi-Wan, his lightsabre held anxiously at the ready. For a moment, both Jedi had a chance to take a brief survey of their surroundings. As it turned out, they had landed somewhere in the middle of a corridor decorated only with a thin layer of grime. An injured Nikto guard lay clutching his vulnerable shoulder where the blaster bolt had struck him. It had just missed his protective mesh vest. Obi-Wan hadn't even seen who had been shooting at him until now. He assumed this was the individual who had been shouting in Huttese a few moments ago.

Apparently, the shouts for help had not gone unnoticed. Before Obi-Wan had much time to ponder the fallen guard, another Nikto poked his head out into the hallway. At first he glanced to his comrade, and took a step forward as though he were about to run out to help him. As soon as he saw the two unmistakeable blue blades glowing midway down the hall, however, his concern turned inward. Immediately drawing his own heavy blaster, the guard fired off a few haphazard shots before scrambling back into the doorway he had come from.

Anakin flinched as the blaster shots veered towards them. It was almost impossible to control his instinct to swipe at them. He knew he could have deflected them himself, but Master Obi-Wan had said to stay out of the way. In one sweeping circular movement, the older Jedi had blocked all the Niktos' shots.

With each movement, Obi-Wan had stepped forward a little. When the break in the firing came, the Jedi Master fluidly switched from defensive to pursuing as he advanced quickly towards the retreating guard. Without even deciding to, Anakin went with him. He didn't _know _what Obi-Wan was doing but he could _feel _it. The same insistent pull whirled him around into a defensive stance as Master Obi-Wan stepped through the doorway after the fleeing guard.

The startled guard had back peddled his way up against a conference table about two meters away. In the short time it had taken Obi-Wan to reach the room and enter, however, the Nikto had regained a good deal of resolve. Instead of firing frantically, he trained his weapon carefully on Obi-Wan's head and barked out some threat in Huttese. It was a bold effort, Obi-Wan thought, though he wasn't sure how the alien intended to shoot him in the head when his lightsabre was held steadily up in front of his entire upper body.

It was a sad attempt at a standoff. "Drop your weapon," Obi-Wan commanded coolly. There was hardly a trace of menacing in his voice, and it came off as a casual request. The Jedi wasn't surprised when the Nikto growled out a string of curses at him between leathery lips. "I'm sorry you feel that way," Obi-Wan replied. The guard had no time to give a pithy response of his own, however. With two lightning quick steps and a flick of his wrist, the Jedi had cleanly severed the barrel of his assailant's gun.

Disarmed, and with a Jedi practically breathing down his throat, the Nikto's rusty skin blanched to the colour of sand. To his credit, he managed not to shout in terror, choosing instead to lock his jaw tightly. Obi-Wan lowered his blade to the side but kept it ignited. They needed information, but outright intimidation was never the best solution. It was generally much easier to forego the showcase and simply ask. The simple fact of being a Jedi worked as a built-in intimidation factor anyway, even if it wasn't the intention.

Obi-Wan was opening his mouth to make his first inquiry when a sudden surge of panic from Anakin stopped him. Not wanting to abandon his questioning before he'd even started but also concerned for his padawan, Obi-Wan quickly glanced over his shoulder to where Anakin was standing in the doorway. Or rather, to where Anakin had been standing. The spot was now vacant. Several shots rang out, and Obi-Wan practically sprinted back out into the hall.

Anakin had been ready for more guards to come. If there were any more on the floor, they would have heard the firing before. The tingling hairs on the back of his neck had him on full alert. Even before Jedi training, he knew that meant trouble. It was just something he could tell. When the two greyish figures stepped into the hallway, the padawan was waiting for them. Without really thinking about it, he charged at them before they could even fire. When they did, his lightsabre flew up to deflect the first few into the ceiling. On the next shot, he made a conscious effort to try to angle his blade so the bolt ricocheted back into his attacker. It wasn't a skill Anakin had prefected in practice yet, but it came so naturally to him that he wasn't sure he needed to practice.

The bolt landed squarely in the middle of one Nikto's chest and sent him reeling backwards into his companion. Anakin was sure he'd killed him, and took a few more steps forward. It was only then that the boy realised the shot hadn't pierced the tight mesh body armour the guard was wearing. It had probably only scorched his skin lightly. The tall alien quickly regained his wits and, along with his friend, began firing with renewed fervour. Anakin's brow furrowed as he tried to give himself over to his instincts. He was able to keep himself defended, but hadn't struck a disabling or killing blow yet.

Sensing the boy's growing struggle, the guards advanced menacingly. Suddenly, in mid step, both were hit with the raw power of the Force. Their grey eyes widened in shock as they were pummelled by with an unfocused but potent blow from the outstretched palm of the small boy. It was enough to send both of them straight to their backs on the floor. They soon found themselves staring up at the slightly trembling lightsabre blade of Anakin Skywalker.

The padawan stood over his enemies, who lay frozen at his feet. His whole body was shaking with the adrenaline of the moment. Unsure of what to do, Anakin just stood there, his wild eyes flickering between the faces of the fallen guards.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan shouted earnestly from down the corridor. He didn't pause to see if the boy turned around, instead running quickly to his side.

The padawan did turn around, however, looking a little disoriented at first. But the presence of his master seemed to calm his nerves. "Master," he acknowledged, sounding relieved.

Obi-Wan hadn't been sure what in the blazes Anakin had got himself into out here. It had only been his instinct to come to the boy's side as quickly as possible. Now it was registering that the boy wasn't in danger, at least not any longer. It was quite the opposite. The Jedi Master felt the same sense of surprise that Anakin had. He met eyes with his padawan for a moment, and some intangible weight settled on both of them. For a moment, everything was deathly silent.

Obi-Wan looked away, down to the guards, and the weight on his mind drifted away as if on a passing wind. He quickly focused on the practical, putting up his sabre and grabbing the blasters from the helpless guards. "Are you all right?" he asked Anakin.

The boy nodded confidently, once again ready. Following Obi-Wan's example, he deactivated his lightsabre and clipped it back on his belt. "Where'd they take Filch and the other orphans?" he asked intently.

"I haven't quite had time to find that out yet, Padawan," Obi-Wan replied gently. He quickly set about removing the power pack from one of the blasters and tossed the empty weapon aside. The other, he kept in his hand. As he did this, he glanced down at the guards. "Where are you keeping them?" When they didn't answer, he looked at them incredulously. "It's quite obvious this is no working syndicate."

The only room Obi-Wan had seen so far was the one down the hall passing for some kind of conference room. There had been a table, true enough, but it looked as if this whole, dirty top level of the building hadn't been used in some time. Obi-Wan hadn't expected the building to be bustling with happy workers, especially considering all members of the supposed syndicate were dead. What he had seemed so far confirmed the façade.

The guards sat up slowly, but were not about to respond to the question. Obi-Wan stared down at the horned tops of their heads for a moment. Slowly, he crouched down in front of them. His eyes focused intensely on the one nearest to him. It was the kind of stare that seemed like it could cut right through your mind. With the Force suggestion that accompanied it, that wasn't entirely untrue. "Where is the communications center?"

The Nikto he was focusing on blinked his inner eyelids slowly. His reply was in a rumbling, barely intelligible basic. "Center of level three."

Obi-Wan nodded. "And the children?" He could sense Anakin behind him focusing sharply on the Nikto now as well. The guard shook his head at first but was ultimately was unable to resist the Force urge to answer.

"Basement," he said. "Near the garage."

Slowly, Obi-Wan stood back up. Flipping the blaster into stun mode, he took a step back and fired at the guards. The blue rings quickly sent them back to the floor, unconscious. He then tossed the gun aside and turned to head down the hallway.

"Are we going to the basement? To find Filch and the other kids?" Anakin asked, following close behind the Jedi Master.

Obi-Wan hesitated, knowing Anakin probably wouldn't like or understand his answer. "We will, padawan, but first we have to gather some evidence."

"Evidence?" Anakin asked, the question a mixture of confusion and ire.

"We have to have evidence of Governor Lamont's involvement if we're to bring him to justice," Obi-Wan explained.

"But we should save the orphans first," Anakin said with a great deal of conviction.

Obi-Wan stopped and faced his padawan. This decision had been in the back of his mind since they had landed on the rooftop, but it hadn't been an easy conclusion to come to. To tell the truth, Obi-Wan wasn't confident of the judgement himself, but he had to make it one way or the other. He ran a hand down the side of his face as he tried to think of a way to explain that Anakin would understand. "There's bound to be heavy security around the orphans. As soon as they know we're here, it will be impossible to go back and get the evidence from the communications center."

Anakin's lips tightened, and his small cheeks flushed. Then he shot back, "Won't there be lots of guards around there too?"

Obi-Wan hadn't quite thought of that. He supposed it was true, but did it really affect their situation? They had to have evidence incriminating the governor; there was nothing for it. Perhaps if there was another way to get copies of the communication records…

That sparked an idea. "Where's the lift?" Obi-Wan suddenly asked, glancing around.

Anakin looked thoroughly confused at the seemingly sudden change in topic. "I saw it over here," the boy said, pointing slowly to an alcove a few steps away. They walked over, and Obi-Wan started examining the call panel. Anakin thought for a few seconds, then asked, "Isn't it a law that buildings have to run communication lines through the lift shafts?"

Obi-Wan gave his padawan a smile. "Precisely," he said. He was pleased to discover that Anakin hadn't actually been sleeping through all his civil code lectures. Obi-Wan realised he probably shouldn't have been surprised, though. The words 'power' and 'mechanics' had likely got the boy's attention.

"So if we find a way in, we can download copies of everything that's been sent to and from the building," Anakin concluded.

Obi-Wan tested prying at the doors, just to see how much resistance there was. There was a lot. "That is possible, then?" he inquired about the information download. He thought so but he had only ever done it from terminals, not the lines themselves. He was fairly certain that was illegal, in most cases.

"It might be encoded, but you can break that if you try hard enough. I can probably do it if you want." The padawan beamed, and Obi-Wan was reminded that this was the boy who had, at the age of 9, almost devised a way to get past slavery security measures. It struck him that perhaps this was the sort of behaviour a Jedi Master shouldn't be encouraging. At the moment, however, necessity overrode the question.

"We need to get this door opened first," Obi-Wan commented, standing back from his futile attempts at opening it manually. He looked it up and down.

"We can cut it open," Anakin suggested.

That might very well have been true, but Obi-Wan never liked using brute force unless necessary. He was considering trying to crack open the call panel and hotwire the doors when suddenly a high-pitched, bleating tone filled the air.

It didn't take long for the source of the noise to register. "How did they find out we were here?" Anakin shouted above the alarm.

A knot immediately formed in Obi-Wan's stomach. He quickly headed for the conference room where he'd left the first, disarmed Nikto. The two halves of his blaster lay on the floor, but the alien was nowhere to be seen. Obi-Wan practically sprinted back to the lift, immediately ripping open the call panel plating and examining the wiring.

He wasn't sure what he'd hoped to accomplish by that, but it seemed to be the first step to hotwiring. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan was confronted with a mess of wires that meant very little to him. He gave Anakin a sideways look that asked for help but did not quite beg it.

Anakin understood, and stepped over to examine the interior of the panel. Despite the ongoing noise, the boy was able to concentrate on the task. Apparently, it wasn't as complicated as it seemed. The padawan did no tearing and crossing of cords, but only tripped some trigger inside. The doors immediately slid open.

The lift was evidently not repulsor powered as the turbolifts of the senate and Temple were. Instead, a large metal piston ran all the way down the middle of the shaft. The two Jedi had little time to consider the mechanical workings of the device at the moment, however, as a lift car was headed up towards them from the ground floor. Obi-Wan had no doubt the car would be filled with heavily armed guards alerted to the Jedi presence.

"Go!" the Jedi Master ordered, waving Anakin towards the inside of the shaft.

"Is there enough space, Master?" the boy asked, worriedly glancing up.

Obi-Wan made a quick assessment of how much space was above the height of the door. There was about half a meter. Hopefully the car wasn't much taller than the height of the door, or they were going to have a problem. "It should be all right," he said, with more assurance than he felt. "Try to get over to the service ladder."

Without second guessing, Anakin grabbed a hold of a pipe running up the shaft to the left of the doorway. Obi-Wan carefully wrapped his arm around a similar bundle of pipes to the right, testing them gently before putting his weight on them. The only footing available were the ring-like attachments between different segments of the piping. The lift door slammed shut as soon as the Jedi were out of the way of its sensors, leaving them with only the dim strip of safety lights running down the ladder to see by.

_This is a bad idea, _Obi-Wan thought the instant he had climbed inside. He felt that if he moved at all, something might break. It might even if he didn't move. Looking across the shaft, he saw Anakin making his way very slowly. Obi-Wan tried to shake aside his unease and do the same, but it was terribly difficult to concentrate with all the noise in the chamber.

He glanced at the large piston in the center, and noticed that some light exhaust was hissing out from vents at the top. Tracing the pipes he was currently using as a ladder, he saw that they fed into the top of the central, telescoping piston. More and more of the air steamed out as the car approached.

Obi-Wan was no engineer, but he knew enough to surmise that the lift was running on a kind of pneumatic system. It was a mode not uncommon in lower end mechanics. It was cheaper and just as effective as a regular lift, with the only downside being that it was much more dangerous. The compressed air that ran it could kill you in a variety of ways, either by explosion or by ripping apart your internal organs if inhaled. Based on their cool feel and placement, Obi-Wan was almost positive the pipes Anakin and he were climbing on carried the compressed air that ran the lift mechanics.

_Strike that, _Obi-Wan thought. _This is a tremendously bad idea._

"Anakin!" The Jedi Master yelled as loudly as he could.

The boy heard it above the sound of the constant stream of exhaust. Instead of looking over to Obi-Wan, though, he looked down, assuming he was being warned about the proximity of the lift car. It was two levels below them and closing.

Sensing the boy was about to mistakenly climb faster, Obi-Wan quickly barked out, "No! Jump!"

The boy's head shot up; he gave the Jedi Master an incredulous look. "Jump? But the ladder-"

"Forget about the ladder! Jump down onto the car!"

"Why?" the boy asked.

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to retort with Master Yoda's infamous 'There is no why!' If there wasn't time for Anakin's incessant questioning of orders, there wasn't time for a lecture either. Instead, Obi-Wan nodded at the piston in the center of the room. "It's a pneumatic lift. These pipes are all for compressed air."

It took a moment for that to register, but when it did, the mechanic in the boy panicked. He needed no more prodding at all. Apparently he realised it was much less threatening to jump on top of the car than to hang on to a death trap. Padawan and Master both leapt at the same time, falling two stories before they met with the roof that was heading towards them. The two Jedi landed on either side of the piston; both took a moment to regain their balance. It was an extremely strange sensation to fall onto a moving surface.

Obi-Wan quickly dropped onto his stomach then rolled over onto his back. He didn't have to tell Anakin to do the same; the swiftly shrinking headroom was enough of a command. Soon both were lying on the roof of the car, feet towards the door. The surface they lay on was warm and smattered with lubricating greases and oils. The alcove with the ladder and safety lights was situated behind Anakin.

The last two meters closed up very slowly as the lift came to its stop. The piston telescoped back into itself gradually. Air that smelled vaguely of oil spewed out into the shrinking space. They passed the estimated one and a half meters of space, and Obi-Wan's heart sped up. The bundle of piping inched closer towards them.

With a final spurt of hot air and a jolt, the lift car came to a halt. There wasn't enough room left to sit up, but right now both Jedi were thankful there was any room at all. Everything was completely silent for a moment. The lift door must have opened quietly; the next sound heard was the thudding of feet as the guards exited the lift. A few muffled voices were detectable, but it was impossible to hear what was being said.

Obi-Wan slowly turned his head towards Anakin. The boy looked back at him. Backlit by the dull yellow safety light behind him, Anakin's face was hard to make out. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan could sense the apprehension and questioning that must have been in the boy's expression. The Jedi Master quietly held up a hand signalling for a few more seconds of silence. They listened until they heard the faint whoosh of the lift doors closing. The car remained in place.

"They must be waiting to see if they need more guards before sending them," Obi-Wan whispered. Carefully, he propped himself up on his right side, grateful he hadn't ended up on his left- his shoulder and ribs still ached dully from his earlier mishap on the roof. "Do you see the communications line?" he asked.

"I think it's over here," the boy whispered, turning his head away towards the ladder.

It made sense that they would run the line there, for the convenience of maintenance, so Obi-Wan didn't doubt Anakin. He kept silent as the boy squirmed into a crouch and over towards the alcove. He began picking his way through the bundle of cords running alongside the ladder.

"It's one of these," the padawan concluded, narrowing his choice down to a small collection of about two dozen individual wires.

_Wonderful, _Obi-Wan thought. He wondered how long it was going to take to find the right wire and download the information. The Jedi was highly aware of the presence of six or seven guards on the floor. They would probably conduct their search cautiously, but it wouldn't take them too long to figure out the Jedi were no longer there. And if they took time to notice the broken lift panel, it wasn't going to take them long to figure out where their quarry had gone.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan whispered, eyeing the boy sternly, "We can't risk doing anything that might give us away."

The boy hardly glanced up from his work as he replied insistently, "I won't, Master. They're all for the communications system, I just have to find the one I can interface with my datapad." He bit his lower lip in concentration as he picked up the pace of his work. In the faint yellow light, there were visible grease smears across Anakin's face and on his tunic. He looked less like a Jedi padawan than an absurdly young pit mechanic.

Still, the pressure of time was weighing heavily on Obi-Wan's mind. The fact that he was unable to do anything to help Anakin made it worse. But staring at the boy and trying to will him into success wasn't going to do much. It would probably only slow him down.

So Obi-Wan looked away, at nothing in particular, and tried to clear his mind. He breathed in deeply, reminding himself that each molecule of stale, dirty air contained another speck of the Force. It eased him a little, and suddenly he was thinking much more logically. He realised that, even if they downloaded all the necessary data before the guards found them out, they would still be stuck in a small space above a lift car.

It was such an obvious bit of foresight that it made Obi-Wan how unconsciously nervous he must have been. This was quite uncharacteristic of him. _Focus! _He reprimanded himself sharply. _There has to be some kind of emergency door here on the roof. _Obi-Wan quickly began running his fingers over the surface he was lying on. It was considerably more difficult for him to squirm around in the tight space than it had been for Anakin, but he managed to scrunch his body down towards his feet. A tiny groove caught his attention; he swiftly traced it with his fingers and found there to be a square hatch which he had formerly been lying on.

"This one!" In his excitement, Anakin voiced the exclamation a little too loudly. He sent Obi-Wan an apologetic look before quickly getting out his datapad.

The Jedi Master might have reacted a little sharply to the boy's disturbance had he not already sensed a few guards headed back towards the lift. They couldn't possibly miss the tampered with panel now. So instead of hissing a reprimand, Obi-Wan frantically whispered, "Hurry up!"

"I am!" Anakin insisted. In a desperate move, he ripped the wire in half with his teeth.

That blatant disregard for basic electrical safety might have caused Obi-Wan a premature coronary had he not been preoccupied with getting the emergency hatch open. His attention was already back on the smooth surface. There was some kind of label attached to it, but what good were written instructions in nearly pitch dark?

Obi-Wan vaguely heard the clunking sound of heavy footsteps approaching, followed by a frantic shout. His attention right now was almost solely on the hatch. _It has to have hinges of some kind, _he reasoned. They would undoubtedly make it weaker. _Only one way to find out, _he thought.

Their silent anonymity was broken by the sound of Obi-Wan's outstretched palms battering against the emergency hatch. The Force-enhanced blow left the metal hatch warped but not completely free of its hinges. Most likely, it probably opened the other direction, towards the outside. _Not this time it doesn't._ With another massive pounding, the hinges snapped and the hatch clattered to the floor of the car.

"Have you got all the data?" Obi-Wan quickly asked his padawan.

Anakin was staring blankly at the Jedi Master, and replied belatedly, "Yeah, almost."

"Tell me the second you're done," Obi-Wan said, swinging around so his legs faced the hatch.

With that barrier removed, the frenetic noise of arguing Nikto guards on the other sides of the doors was even more apparent. They had probably been bickering about how to open the door now that the panel had been torn from the wall.

"Yes, Master," Anakin replied with a hasty nod.

Obi-Wan let his legs dangle through the hole, preparing to jump down into the car. Before he did, he added, "And make sure you disconnect as soon as you've finished." He didn't wait for a reply. He let himself drop into the car.

The lights were almost blindingly bright in comparison with the darkness of the shaft. Obi-Wan was not distracted from his task, however. His hand quickly went to his side and drew the sabre from his belt. At the same time, his eyes rapidly searched the lift's control panel. He was looking for some kind of door lock command.

It was too late. With a rush of air, the lift doors flew open, revealing three guards with military issue heavy blasters. Obi-Wan could almost feel their fingers tightening on the triggers, even though it hadn't happened yet. They had hesitated, but he could sense what was coming.

But then he was hit with a rush of elation from his padawan. He didn't even wait for Anakin's cry of, "I've got it!" before taking action. The Force-wave from his outstretched palm pre-empted the guards' trigger fingers. When they fired, their shots went awry as they stumbled back onto the floor. With a slighter motion of his hand, Obi-Wan pressed the lift command for the garage level. Before the guards could scramble off the floor, the doors had already closed.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsabre and leaned against the nearest wall. Use of the Force was not an extremely difficult thing, but repeated use within a short period of time would eventually lead to exhaustion. A few moments of calm would greatly behove him right now.

That was not to be, however. Anakin dropped down through the broken hatch, datapad in hand. His eyes flitted over the bent and unhinged hatch before turning up to meet his Master's. "Here," he said, offering the datapad like a prize.

Obi-Wan took the small device and glanced at the display screen. It was completely indecipherable. "This is all encoded," he said, something between a statement and a question.

"It's encoded but it's all there," Anakin insisted. "That should be every transmission to and from here for the last half a standard year." He paused to consider and revise his statement. "Unless they've cleared the memory since then."

It was not entirely the result Obi-Wan had been hoping for. At this point, they had no choice but to hope the evidence they needed was somewhere in the encrypted data. He tucked the datapad away for safekeeping. Now that it was undoubtedly known the Jedi were there, they probably _would _erase the communication records. This was the only copy left. There was no sense sneaking into the communication offices now. Their only goal now was to find the orphans and get them to safety. Assuming that was even possible. He had been worried for their safety, should Anakin and he be discovered before they got to them. And now…

"Padawan," Obi-Wan's tone was low and even. "There may be a great number of guards when we get to the garage. And the orphans could be-" he hesitated. He wanted to prepare Anakin for the worst, but at the same time, he didn't want to upset the boy too much. "Well, they're likely to be in great danger."

The padawan learner clenched his teeth together. "I won't let the slavers take them," he stated firmly.

Despite the grease causing his wavy hair to stick out in peculiar directions, or the awkwardness of his twig-like limbs, or the remnants of baby-fat in his cheeks, Anakin Skywalker looked like he should be taken entirely seriously at the moment.

It unnerved Obi-Wan to see Anakin like that. Determination was good, true, but he didn't want to see it lead to recklessness. That was all too common among the young, especially boys. Obi-Wan had personal experience and a few lasting scars to attest to that fact. "We'll do everything in our powers, Anakin, but you have to remain alert. Listen to what I tell you and do it, no questions. There will be no time for questions."

"I understand, Master," Anakin replied, yet none of the tension left his small body.

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan accepted the answer. There was little time to dawdle and discuss theoretical tactics in combat. Besides, this was no theory; this was the real thing. The real thing was always different.

As the lift approached the bottom of its run, both Jedi readied their weapons. They stared straight ahead, senses on full alert. Just as the lift was coming to a stop, Obi-Wan added. "Unless I tell you otherwise, stay behind me." Anakin gave no response. Obi-Wan hoped that meant the boy would do as he was told. With a characteristic like whoosh, the doors opened.

The Jedi stared down an empty hallway. Obi-Wan's left eye flinched. Reaching out further with his senses, he reluctantly led the way out of the lift and into the garage corridor. It was nothing more than a straight, narrow passageway and what looked to be several docking stations. Their doors were all closed, leaving the Jedi to guess at their contents.

"Well…" Obi-Wan trailed off, giving a light cluck of his tongue. This was not at all what he had been expecting. The muscles in his arms had almost relaxed when a loud wail emanated from the other end of the hallway, around the corner. It sounded vaguely like a mewling gundark bairn, which was not at all a pleasant sound.

Obi-Wan wasted no time. Breaking into almost a sprint, he covered the length of the hallway in a matter of seconds. But he stopped a few feet before the corner. Anakin ran into him, getting his lightsabre blade out of the way only by sheer Force instinct. Obi-Wan gave him a brief but heated glance before turning away.

The yowling voice cried out again. This time, it was both understandable and identifiable. "Get yer hands off me! I told you! I'll bite you again!" From the sound of things, Filch wasn't making it easy on his captors. On one level, Obi-Wan almost had to smile. At the same time, however, he hoped the boy didn't push them too far.

"Filch!" Anakin whispered intensely, looking as though he were about to run around the corner by himself and rescue his friend.

Obi-Wan gave him a look that told him to be absolutely silent. He needed to think, for one thing.

"Will you shut up already, kid!" a male human voice echoed from the docking garage around the corner. "Lon, get some of that tranquillizer, will you?"

There was precious little time to think or plan any more. And Obi-Wan hated it. He wanted nothing more than the chance to walk through all options in his mind and carefully select the best course. Unfortunately, this required action, not thinking. The lives of Filch and the other orphans were hanging precariously in the balance, so why was Obi-Wan so frozen? He didn't need anyone else to make the decisions for him, but he desperately wanted it right now.

But he had a guide, he reminded himself. The Force was his guide, always. What more could he ask for? Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan bolstered up his strength. No hesitation this time. No deliberation. He exploded around the corner and into the garage.

The movements were in his body before they ever registered in his mind. A quick slash to the left, a twirl of his wrist to the right, and the two Nikto guards Obi-Wan hadn't even realised were on either side of the door lay on the ground, dead.

The Jedi did a quick assessment of the space- a cramped garage made of old, dull durasteel. The lighting blared brightly from ceiling panels three meters above his head. But more than the details of the space itself, Obi-Wan was concerned with the guards within it. Three stood in the small space between he and the man who held onto Filch. In the chaos that followed, two more ran out from inside the boxy ship that was parked on the other side of the small garage. It seemed they all opened fire at once.

Relying on the pure surge of the Force flowing through him, Obi-Wan parried the shots. Somewhere in his mind, he could feel Anakin's presence near him, but he couldn't see the boy. Everything was moving too quickly to see anything. _Roll! _The Force told him in its wordless language. Tucking in his left shoulder, Obi-Wan threw himself to the floor, unconscious of the pain the impact caused. A swipe of his blade and a severed leg fell to the floor. There was a loud scream as one of the guards accidentally shot his own man.

Obi-Wan snapped back up to his feet, and was faced with the three remaining guards. Or effectually, two remaining guards. The other lay writhing on the floor, clutching the stump of his severed hand. Had that been Obi-Wan's work or Anakin's? Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure. Before he had time to consider it, a blast sizzled into the wall right by his head. He had moved just slightly enough to avoid it, but his hair on the left side of his head felt a little singed. The next shot, he was ready for. Snapping his blade downward, he deflected it at the attacker, hitting him square in the face. The one guard who remained barely had time to get off a few haphazard shots before a whirl of tan and blue overtook him.

With a quick spin and a backwards jabbing motion of his lightsabre, Obi-Wan had successfully taken out the last Nikto. They had been well-armed but poorly trained. It didn't take long. At least, it didn't feel like it took long. Obi-Wan was barely conscious of what had happened. He had forgotten the incredible feeling of giving oneself over to the Force in battle. In truth, he'd never been very good at letting go of his thoughts. This time, however, he felt barely conscious at all. It was only the sharp voice of the man now standing on the ship's ramp that called him back to reality.

"Come one step closer and he dies, Jedi," the grimy-skinned man growled. "I mean it. Then I'll kill the rest of them."

With his wits about him once again, Obi-Wan saw that the man's strong hand was wrapped firmly around Filch's neck. A blaster was pressed firmly at the base of his skull. The boy was white as a sheet, and Obi-Wan suddenly felt himself going cold as well.

He immediately dropped his lightsabre. He didn't know what else to do. "All right," he in his most calm, cultured tone. "There's no need for this."

The man snorted. "No need? Need money, don't we? It spins the galaxy around. And that's what this brat is- a nice big stack of cre-"

The word stalled on the man's lips. His eyes widened as he slowly looked down at his stomach- or more precisely, at the glowing blade run through his stomach. With a sharp jerk, the lightsabre was pulled out. This sent the man off-balance. Letting go of Filch, the slaver stumbled forward off the end of the ramp and hit the ground, dead.

Obi-Wan found himself staring at his shaking, sweat-soaked padawan. He had felt his presence somewhere in the room, but in the midst of all the fighting, he'd lost track of Anakin. Apparently, the slaver had, too. After a beat of pure stillness, the boy deactivated his blade and practically fell to a seat on the ramp.

"Woah, Anakin! That was awesome!" Filch exclaimed.

After grabbing his lightsabre, Obi-Wan rushed to the padawan's side. "Anakin," he asked. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

The boy shook his head, his eyes never leaving the body sprawled on the floor. His expression was a mixture of confusion, satisfaction, and terror all at once. It took a moment, but Obi-Wan realised this was the first time Anakin had ever killed anyone. The Jedi Master stood there, wordlessly. What could he say?

"Are the other orphans on the ship?" Obi-Wan asked Filch.

"Yeah, they took them there already. But you got all the guys from the ship." Filch's eyes widened a little as he looked up at Obi-Wan. "I mean you _really_ got them," he whispered, awestruck.

Obi-Wan was doing his best to ignore Filch. He wanted to say something that might console Anakin a little, but the boy's emotions were so mixed he didn't know which one to respond to. He opened his mouth slowly, but before he could say anything, a sound behind him caught his attention. The Jedi glanced over his shoulder casually, but his muscles immediately tensed.

Kala Sigrid stood frozen in the doorway, a little more than surprised by what she saw. Before Obi-Wan could say anything, she turned and bolted. His reaction was instinct- he couldn't let her get away.

"Anakin. Anakin!" Obi-Wan practically shouted the boy back into consciousness. "Take the ship and get the orphans out of here. Take this," he shoved the boy's datapad into his hand, "and don't lose it. Go to the authorities. Get help." He half-walked, half-ran backwards as he said the last part. "GO!" He shouted insistently. Both boys turned and ran up the ramp into the ship.

That was as much confirmation of their escape as he was going to get. He knew Anakin could safely pilot the ship, at least under normal circumstances. Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure about his current state. But it would have to do. With the orphans and evidence entrusted to his padawan, Obi-Wan turned and ran out the garage door in pursuit of Kala.

When Obi-Wan burst into the hallway, lightsabre held at the ready, Kala was no where in sight. He cast out with his senses; a ripple at the edge of his perception field off to his right caught Obi-Wan's attention. He glanced down the narrow hallway to see that the door at the end leading outside was slowly swinging closed. The call of the Force to his heightened senses was like a physical pull in that direction, and he swiftly followed without a thought.

Obi-Wan burst out of the door and into the damp night air. Before his eyes had time to adjust to the low lighting of the street, he sensed the crowds of lower city citizens starting to fill the pedways. Instinctively, he rapidly shut down his sabre. It wouldn't do to slice up haphazard passers-by. The reaction came just in time as Obi-Wan unsuccessfully attempted skidding to a halt to avoid colliding with a group of burly industrial workers. He slammed into the back of a thoroughly muscled human, who immediately cursed and spun around with the clear intent of pummelling the moron who'd run into him. His eyes widened in a moment of trepidation when he saw that said moron was a Jedi. The man's muscles slacked, and he settled for throwing several loud obscenities in Obi-Wan's direction instead.

The Jedi had little time for apologies. Back-pedalling a few steps, Obi-Wan cast out his Force senses for Kala's now reasonably familiar presence. His eyes were drawn to his left, where he glimpsed her short blonde figure disappearing into an alleyway. Navigating his way through the crowd of workers heading home, or more likely to the entertainment district of the sector, proved a bit difficult for Obi-Wan. The stream of beat up speeders skimming along the street had increased greatly since the Jedi had entered the syndicate building. In an attempt to avoid knocking anyone out into traffic, Obi-Wan stayed close to the wall of the syndicate as he scuttled his way through the workers.

By the time he reached the alleyway Kala had darted into, Obi-Wan was almost sure he'd lost her. Instead, to his surprise, he spotted the petite woman on the ledge of a first story window of a neighboring building. "Stop right there!" he ordered. Generally, when a non-combatant was ordered to stop by a Jedi, she stopped. Kala, however, glanced up only briefly at Obi-Wan, then proceeded to smash in the window with a kick. Before he reached her, she'd dropped inside the building.

The Jedi swiftly followed after his target, running and leaping up onto the ledge just above his head. As he dropped down into the room, Obi-Wan swiftly ignited his lightsabre and brought it up to a ready position. The blue light of the blade was the only illumination in the dingy room, save for the faint neon glow of street signs filtering in through the broken window. A chair next to a table in the corner piled with vials and bottles of unidentified chemicals were the only furniture in the small room. It slowly dawned on Obi-Wan that this was probably some kind of clandestine drug lab. Fortunately, there were no angry tweakers occupying the space at the moment. There was only Kala, standing near the table with her back against the only door.

"All right, now you've had your go at escaping," Obi-Wan said in a low, commanding tone. "It's time you surrendered yourself before you get hurt."

The young woman studied the imposing figure before her carefully. Just at the point where Obi-Wan thought she might be coming to her senses and about to give up, Kala completely threw him off guard- she laughed. Not the bubbly, absent-minded laugh he'd heard from her before, but a sardonic laugh of amusement. "Obi-Wan," she chided in a tone that seemed far too familiar, "you know it's almost charming when you pretend to be so masculine." She smirked at him mockingly.

A sense of weariness threatened to settle over Obi-Wan. This woman was absolutely incorrigible. What good did she think she was going to do against an armed Jedi Master? His frustration was amplified by a growing awareness of just how worn-down he was becoming from all this fighting and expenditure of the Force. He knew he could defeat Kala, but he really did not want to waste the energy doing so. Besides, the gentleman in him felt it terribly unfair to fight an unarmed woman. He didn't even particularly like sparring with female Jedi at the Temple. Which wasn't to say they weren't capable, but it certainly didn't feel chivalrous.

Obi-Wan's features remained stony as he replied, "You're not getting away, so you'd be just as well to give up now before you're unnecessarily injured."

Undeterred, Kala kept on grinning confidently, perhaps even a bit lasciviously, he thought. Obi-Wan had no more patience for coy banter. He took a step forward, his boots crunching on the broken glass of the window pane that had shattered on the floor. As soon as he moved, Kala swiftly launched some object from the corner table at him. His initial instinct was to swipe at the projectile with his lightsabre, but in this case, that proved entirely ineffective. The Jedi barely had the time and presence of mind to turn his torso away from the liquid droplets flying towards him. But he couldn't get out of the way completely; with a terrible hiss, the corrosive chemical splattered onto Obi-Wan's back.

Obi-Wan shuddered involuntarily as the chemical ate through his tunic and made contact with his skin. It was all he could do not to scream out in agony from the sudden pain. The Force seemed to swirl madly around him for a moment, as shock threatened to paralyse him. He was barely aware enough of his surroundings to sense Kala charging wildly at him from behind. Steeling himself as much as possible, Obi-Wan swung his weapon arm in a wide arc in Kala's direction, only to find that the blade had gone out. It was still switched to 'on', but some of the acid had burned through the metal casing and shorted out the interior wiring.

Dropping the useless hilt, Obi-Wan threw his hands up to absorb the impact of Kala's charge. At the last second, she lowered her shoulder and barrelled into him with surprising power. The momentum sent Obi-Wan backwards, slamming him into the stone wall behind him. This time, he did cry out in agony as the searing pain in his back was amplified. He was only vaguely aware of the pressure of Kala's body against his as she whispered tauntingly, "Not so bold now, are we?"

His mind was entirely focused instead on the acid that was burning its way deeper into the skin of his back every second. Having no idea what the hell Kala had thrown on him, Obi-Wan's singular thought was to make it stop, now. In a slightly insane move, he found the emergency water system running to the ceiling of the room and, with a nudge of the Force, set it off. A cold artificial rain filled the room immediately. With an almost panicked energy, Obi-Wan pushed Kala off of himself and stepped out to expose his back to the water. Thankfully, he had hedged his bets correctly, and the water began flushing out the wounds rather than causing the chemical to ignite.

In the dim light, Obi-Wan barely noticed Kala stepping back and gracefully drawing a shiv into her hand from its concealed place in her right sleeve. But the sight helped draw him back to awareness. Tearing his focus away from the pain in his back, the Jedi Master heightened his senses for the oncoming attack. With the aid of the Force, he clearly saw the path of the small blade moving towards his stomach. His left hand darted out and caught Kala's right wrist. Before he had a chance to attempt to disarm her, though, her left knee shot up. Obi-Wan's free right hand blocked it only an instant short of landing a highly painful and unscrupulous blow. His eyes widened in indignation, and his notions of chivalry immediately snapped.

Letting go of her weapon arm, Obi-Wan stepped forward, delivering a classic, solid palm blow to Kala's stomach. It was the kind of blow that, if delivered at full force, could cause immediate internal bleeding. But Obi-Wan was not at full strength. In fact, he was starting to feel a bit nauseous and dizzy. Nevertheless, Kala staggered backwards, barely managing not to slip on the wet floor. She slammed into the door, gasping for breath, but still conscious.

Pushing through his growing equilibrium difficulties, Obi-Wan charged Kala with the intent of knocking her shiv free and disabling her. With amazing presence of mind that could only have been bred of experience in street fights, she grabbed the chair next to her and swung it down at him. It was becoming quite apparent that Kala was not simply a governor's aide. With that appreciation, Obi-Wan's own reflexes were now heightened to any oncoming attack. The metal chair rocketed towards his head. The incredible amount of defensive training he had received paid off as Obi-Wan concentrated his Force energy into his forearm, which he threw up in a block. The leading leg of the metal chair hit his arm and snapped cleanly in half.

However prepared she may have been, Kala certainly hadn't been ready for that. This time it was her hesitation and shock that left an opening for her opponent. Obi-Wan delivered a swift kick with the side of his foot to the space just below Kala's left knee. There was an audible _crack _as the leg gave way, no doubt painfully, causing her to shift her weight entirely to the right foot. Before Obi-Wan's hazy mind had a chance to finish off the disabling attempt, Kala produced another shiv in her left hand. Brandishing the two fighting knives, the exploded with a yell of fury into a frantic flurry of slashing attacks.

One weapon he could deal with. But two, and from a completely enraged opponent, were a bit too much for his exhausted state. Obi-Wan stepped back to avoid the frantic attack, growing more and more aware of his weakness and dizziness with each passing moment. He dodged the first few of Kala's slices, but he was beginning to fear that whatever Force-damned chemical she'd poured on him had contaminated his bloodstream as well. His bare arms parried against hers, but in his unfocused mind the attacks were becoming less and less clear. Kala continued to limp forward menacingly, and Obi-Wan knew he had to either disable her now or somehow bail out of the fight. As his world threatened to spin out of control, the Force managed to guide his incredibly sloppy and desperate punch straight to Kala's left ear.

"Ahg!" she shouted in pain as she stumbled backwards. Limping desperately on her injured left leg, she managed to scramble towards the door behind her and opened it. Before Obi-Wan could even attempt to pursue her, Kala had seized another bottle from the table and smashed it onto the ground by the door. This one, however, did burst into flames, which immediately blocked the door as Kala staggered out of it and disappeared down the hallway.

Holding his breath to keep from inhaling any noxious fumes, Obi-Wan quickly shut off the emergency sprinkler with the Force. It stopped the fire from growing slightly, but it was still spreading across the damp stone floor towards him. Glancing down at his feet, Obi-Wan saw that he was standing in a pool of water. It was hard to tell at first in the poor lighting, but as the fire blazed closer, he could see that it was tinged red with blood. Not until now did he notice that several of Kala's frantic slashes had landed on his abdomen and arms. The psychological effect of seeing his bloodied tunic nearly finished off Obi-Wan's delicate remaining consciousness. Poisoned, injured, about to catch on fire, and without air to breathe, he was not going to last long.

Spinning around, Obi-Wan saw the small broken window he had entered through. He gauged the distance and tried to decide whether he had enough strength left to Force-jump out. _You have to have enough strength, _he chided himself sharply. _You have no other choice. _Just before he leapt, Obi-Wan remembered the dropped hilt of his lightsabre and called it back to him with the Force. If he was going to bleed and suffocate, at least he wasn't going to forget his lightsabre.

With the sacred weapon in hand and flames licking at his boots, the Jedi rocketed himself out of the open window. In his faintness, it was an extremely strange feeling, as though he had done nothing but the Force itself had simply lifted him off the ground and carried him up. Perhaps it had, he thought whimsically. Obi-Wan landed on his feet, but his legs quickly buckled and sent him face forward onto the grimy street. A few baffled and curious onlookers standing on the pedway bravely jogged in his direction, snatching him up by either arm and dragging him out of the way as the vacant building exploded. The loud sound fell muffled on Obi-Wan's ears as the young Jedi Master slipped out of consciousness.

_Not a sound. No light to reflect in his eyes. The air was tasteless and still as a tomb. His nerves were numbed to uselessness. There was nothing but the Void. It always returned to him. Every time he reached the sub-conscious, he was back here. His very soul communed with the Force, listening, watching, feeling for it. It was different for everyone, he knew, but this was his. Ageless, faceless, he floated in an empty state of anticipation. _

_It was coming. He couldn't remember what it was, though he knew he'd experienced it before. On some level, he was aware of this place that could be found only in the recesses of the mind, in the stillness of the abyss. Here he was, and all else was gone except for the Force. It drew him closer and closer, and he wondered what its message for him was. A vision? A purpose? A reflection of fault? He could guess, but only guess._

_And then it happened. As it had many times before, though he had forgotten, the Force spoke. In a voice that was at once painful and soft, commanding and pleading, a high clear bell and a low rumble, it whispered and shouted not to the man but to the soul it knew intimately. _

_He listened. It said-_

The icy stab shot through Obi-Wan, from his forehead down through the rest of his body. His rush into awareness obliterated his subconscious; it faded quickly back into the spirit. Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open. Still in a surreal, hazy state of mind, he could not register his surrounding fully. All he saw was Chancellor Palpatine leaning over him, staring out through impassive eyes, his hand on the Jedi's forehead.

Obi-Wan started at the unexpected sight, jerking his head back reflexively. Unfortunately, there was nothing beneath it but the gritty, wet surface of the pedway. The scratching feeling on the back of his neck brought opened up a flood of sensory images. The surrounding alleyway came back, the cold dampness of the air returned, and with it, the pain. Obi-Wan didn't have time to make sense of Palpatine's inexplicable presence. He barely had time to stop himself from screaming. The Chancellor disappeared out of view as a man dressed in the light yellow garb of a state medic moved to crouch down over the Jedi.

The medic might have said something, but to Obi-Wan the man was something of a blur. The Jedi's attention was turned to blocking what pain he could with the aide of the Force. It came out as something like a silent prayer for help rather than a self-driven effort, but sometimes that was all one could do. It worked, though, to the extent that his shock faded and the paralysing pain he'd been feeling in his whole body was now confined only to the areas that were actually wounded.

Unfortunately, however, Obi-Wan was still lying with his scorched back on the ground. Before further attempts at trivial things like blocking pain or breathing properly, he had to get his body weight off his back, and quickly. The initial reaction of rolling to his left side proved a bad idea; the inflamed ligaments of his left shoulder had apparently swollen and stiffened rather painfully. Obi-Wan hissed quietly through his teeth, half in frustration and half from the throbbing pain that pulsed its way up from his stomach, back, and arm, and all seemed to congeal somewhere behind his eyes.

Suddenly, there was a hand pressing gently at the artery of Obi-Wan's neck. It pulled away, and a few seconds later, Obi-Wan's pain began to ebb a little. The drug patch the medic had placed on his neck allowed immediate flow of pain blockers to the brain. Most were smart enough to realise this didn't actually remedy their wounds, but at least it provided some immediate relief by suppressing pain-sensing portions of the brain. It was something Obi-Wan should be able to do largely with the Force alone, but his current state was hindering his abilities. It probably didn't help that he'd been subconsciously blocking the pain in his shoulder for the duration of the rescue operation.

With his mind and will a bit more freed, Obi-Wan decided he desperately needed to get his back off the ground. With considerable effort, he tried to employ his lower back muscles to pull himself up into a seated position. The medic immediately recognised the Jedi's intent and thankfully did not attempt to coddle him with any nonsense about staying still until they were sure his neck wasn't broken or anything. Instead the floppy haired young man gingerly placed a supportive hand on an uninjured spot in the Jedi's back and helped pull him up off the coarse, dirty pedway.

Suddenly, Chancellor Palpatine had re-entered Obi-Wan's view, crouching once again along his left side. He made a rather clumsy attempt at aiding the Jedi. A sharp twinge radiated from Obi-Wan's left upper back as the Chancellor's fingers accidentally dug into one of his blistering burns. Obi-Wan grunted in reaction, prompting Palpatine to pull away.

"My apologies, Master Kenobi, I didn't realise…" Palpatine looked concerned as he observed the injuries visible through the burned layers of tunic. "Oh dear," he said gravely. Glancing at the young medic, he added, "That looks rather serious."

"He'll be all right," the young man insisted, obviously attempting to inspire self-confidence from his patient. It was a bit childish, Obi-Wan thought; of course he was going to be all right. He had been through worse before. The state between 'rather serious' and 'all right' was, of course, most uncomfortable, though. He'd just as soon get to the healing process if it was all the same to his current caretaker.

Obi-Wan's desire to return to the Temple healer's ward was overshadowed, however, by his concern over the mission. Apparently Palpatine's presence was Anakin's idea of getting help from the authorities. It wasn't quite what Obi-Wan had had in mind. "Did Padawan Skywalker make it to you safely?" he asked the Chancellor.

"Yes, of course, Master Jedi. And with the rescued orphans, thank goodness. They're in safe keeping now," Palpatine assured him with a smile. Obi-Wan nodded slightly in reply, and slowly dragged his eyes away from the politician. He wondered what had motivated the man to come to the scene himself. What was more, why did he insist on hanging around at the injured Jedi's side? _Probably for the publicity, _Obi-Wan concluded. It seemed in-character for Palpatine. There were probably holo cameras filming from somewhere nearby. Still, the politician's puzzling and useless presence irked Obi-Wan.

"Master Kenobi," the mousy medic said slowly, as though he were nervous about getting the name right. Once he had the Jedi's attention, he continued, "Were these burns caused by the fire?"

Obi-Wan shook his head groggily. "Some kind of chemical, an acid," he replied.

The man's thin lips twitched in concern. "Do you feel nauseous at all?"

_Nauseous, _he pondered. He felt very bad in general, his mind felt hazy, but Obi-Wan knew from experience these were symptoms that usually came with unconsciousness in general. Now that he thought about it, though… "I do feel a bit unbalanced. I thought it might be from the chemicals."

The medic nodded, "It wasn't from blood loss. Those shiv lacerations weren't too deep." He gestured at Obi-Wan's stomach.

Looking down, the Jedi noticed for the first time that his belt had been removed and his tunics opened so the cuts on his abdomen could be treated. This must have been done before he'd woken up. How had he not noticed it until now? His mind must truly be hazier than he realised.

"That's good news," Obi-Wan replied weakly. He was starting to wish that he'd remained unconscious until healed. Being woken up, however it was he had been, was at this point a rather cruel punishment. "Please," he rasped, "I need to return to the Jedi Temple."

"It's pretty far away," the young man noted. Seeing the expression on Obi-Wan's face, however, he conceded the point. "All right, but we'd better get you out of here right away." He reached for the emergency sleigh behind him that amounted basically to a floating plank. Scooting back, he activated it in front of himself. "You'd better sit rather than lay down," he observed.

Obi-Wan shot him an ironic look that clearly indicated he had not been about to return to lying on his scorched back. He wondered what incomprehensible genius had decided to put him on his back in the first place. Of course, he conceded as he slowly scooted onto the sleigh, to lie him on his stomach wouldn't have been favourable either.

Once the Jedi was securely seated, the medic lifted the sleigh to a comfortable walking height.

"Wait," Obi-Wan said, before the young medic could start back towards his ship. The Jedi scanned the alleyway with his eyes, tense for a moment, until he spotted a small cylindrical object near where he'd been lying. "Would you get my lightsabre, please?" he asked.

Before the medic could reply, Palpatine had bent over to retrieve the weapon. He studied it absentmindedly. Obi-Wan held out an expectant hand, and the Chancellor shot him an unreadable smile before returning the weapon.

"I can hang on to it for you," the medic said. Seeing that Obi-Wan was about to protest, and not wanting to cause his patient any more distress, he added, "I'll give it to someone at the Temple as soon as we arrive."

Too tired to argue, Obi-Wan handed over the hilt and waved his hand in a conceding gesture. The young man held the weapon reverently in one hand and pushing the sleigh back towards the street with the other hand. "Excuse me," he called to the huddled bunches of curious onlookers as he pushed his way through the crowd. Walking silently alongside the sleigh, Chancellor Palpatine seemed to automatically command his own respectful leeway, which helped expedite their progress.

"Master Jedi! Master Jedi!" a man's voice called from somewhere in the crowd. Before anyone could stop them, two industrial workers were walking alongside the sleigh. "You all right?" the first man asked in a quaint proletariat version of the core accent.

Increasingly disoriented, Obi-Wan didn't reply right away. The thin medic tried to assert himself as he kept walking the sleigh along. "Please, we're trying to get Master Kenobi some medical attention."

"Oh, 'course, 'course," the second man said. "We just wanted to see he was ok, that's all."

"See we pulled him out of that fire there," the second man nodded in the direction of the still-blazing building. "Police sent us off when they got here and we didn't get to see what happened to him."

So these were the less than perceptive men who had decided it was fine to lie him on his blistered back, Obi-Wan thought. Now that he understood the circumstances a bit better, he wasn't at all angry, though. "Thank you," he said, inclining his head to them in a nod.

"Not a problem, Jester. Not a problem at all," the first man insisted with a smile. Obi-Wan recognized the slang term for Jedi Master as reflexive for the man rather than as an actual insult, as it had originated. It was probably simply the way he'd always heard Jedi Masters referred to.

"You shall both be commended," Chancellor Palpatine commented offhandedly. Only now did the two workers note the presence of the ruler of the Republic. Their eyes widened, and they immediately began frantically shaking his hand. Detained, the Chancellor put on a smile and paused to talk with them for PR's sake.

Meanwhile, the medic continued to pull Obi-Wan's sleigh towards the awaiting small yellow medical cruiser. Just as he was gently loading his patient up the short ramp, a young voice desperately called out, "Master!"

Though growing increasingly tired and fairly certain of slipping back into unconsciousness at any moment, Obi-Wan could not help but smile in relief as he saw his padawan sprinting towards him from the garage now bustling with medics and authorities. "Anakin," he said with a slow nod.

"I was looking for you, Master," the boy said, sounding relieved. "I got our cloaks from the roof. Here's yours." He looked around for a place to set it, but there wasn't much room in the cramped ship, so he had to settle for placing it on the floor at Obi-Wan's feet. It took the boy's frantic brain a moment to realise there was a reason he'd found Obi-Wan in a medical ship. "Are you okay?" he asked.

It was, under the circumstances, a daft question. But Obi-Wan, noting the boy's honest concern, managed to reply without a hint of wryness, "I'll be all right, padawan."

"Master Kenobi," a scaled medic of unidentifiable planetary origin interrupted. "We'll need to lock you in a restraining field since we can't secure you lying down."

"That's fine," Obi-Wan conceded. It was not that he liked the idea, but he saw there was no other option. He had requested to be taken to the Temple, after all. The alien gently leaned him back a little into the path of a blue restraining ray. His limbs immediately went immobile, though he could still speak and could feel the pain in his back with each heartbeat. Obi-Wan could ignore his wounds, but he could not heal them, and they weren't going away on their own.

Anakin looked concerned about his Master's state on a whole, but Obi-Wan could also sense that the boy was uneasy for other reasons. He had fallen quiet and distracted as the medic worked, applying a few more sedative patches to Obi-Wan's neck. Anakin's eyes drifted away to the building across the blocked-off street, where medics were bustling to treat the Nikto slavers. Those who were still treatable, anyway.

Obi-Wan reminded himself that Anakin was not yet used to all of this. His realisation was particularly sharpened by the memory of Anakin's shocked state after killing the human slaver. They hadn't had any time to talk about it before, and now he wasn't quite sure he was in a state to. His mind kept pulsing in and out of complete clarity, and he felt sure he wasn't going to be at all coherent for much longer.

Nevertheless, Obi-Wan made an attempt. "Anakin," he said, able only to turn his eyes towards the boy as his neck was locked in place. "Is there something bothering you?" he thought he'd give the boy a chance to approach the subject on his own terms.

Anakin looked down and shook his head. "I really don't want to talk about it, Master," he mumbled. It was clear he knew what Obi-Wan was getting at. His Force signature was projecting his internal conflict.

"Padawan, it's only natural to feel confused at a time like this. But we should talk." Here Obi-Wan drifted out for a moment as the darkness edged back into his vision. He blinked it away, and continued, "Remember, your motivations…" he blinked again, "the reasons you do things are important. Jedi musn't…" This time he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to center himself.

Anakin was now watching his master, but only half listening. He kept staring at Obi-Wan's blistering back, aware that he could vaguely feel his master's pain through their Force bond as well. It was distracting, but he was still willing to listen. But Obi-Wan said nothing more. For a moment, the boy waited for the young man to speak, but he quickly realised his Master had fallen unconscious. "Hey," he addressed the alien medic.

"I know," he replied, checking the readouts from the sensors embedded in the restraining beam. "We need to get him out of here."

"Ok," Anakin replied with a nod. He was not about to disagree that his Master needed aid soon. The Jedi healers would be able to help him.

"You've got to get out of here," the medic continued. "There's not enough room once the doors are closed.

"But I want to come!" the boy insisted. "I'll fit, I promise," he said, squishing himself further into the small seat bench next to the medic.

"I'm sorry, kid," the medic replied with a shake of his ovular head. "You'll just have to meet him there."

Reluctant to leave his Master but not wanting to slow his trip to the healer's ward any further, Anakin hopped out of the back of the small cruiser. He cleared the way for the ramp, which folded up while the ship was already taking off. With the traffic in the area cleared, it swiftly shot off over the street and disappeared around the corner, leaving Anakin standing alone on the edge of the curious crowd of workers and media personalities.

For a while, the boy just stared off down the street, unsure of what to do now. His already turbulent mind couldn't make sense of the moment. Everything had happened so quickly since they'd found Filch and the other orphans. They had come so close to being sold into slavery…

Anakin shivered, despite having his thick cloak around himself once again. He never liked thinking about the time he'd spent as a slave, and tried hard not to. It wasn't just that it had been unpleasant. Of course, it had been terrible a lot of the time. The biggest reason he didn't like thinking about it was because it made him think things he knew Jedi weren't supposed to think. If he could avoid them, everything would be ok, he reasoned.

"Anakin," a smooth voice behind him said. He turned and looked up to see Chancellor Palpatine. The old man gave him a small smile.

"Chancellor," the boy replied with a small bow. "Do you need more help with something, sir?" he asked hopefully. Maybe, he thought, if he could do something it would take his mind off of all the things he wasn't supposed to be thinking.

Palpatine glanced back over his shoulder, surveying the bustling officials working in and around the defunct syndicate. "The senate police seem to have everything under control at this point. And you," he looked back down at Anakin, "deserve a good rest. You've done quite a lot here all ready."

"Thank you, Chancellor. I did my best," Anakin replied, trying sound as humble as he could. He felt proud about helping save the orphans, but part of him also felt sick for reasons he didn't quite understand.

Palpatine noticed the boy's downcast look, but said nothing for the moment. Instead, he laid a hand on Anakin's back and gently turned him in the direction of his diplomatic yacht. "I'm sure you'd like to return to the Temple. I would be happy to take you back there."

Nodding, Anakin replied. "If you can. They took Master Kenobi there."

"Yes, I know," Palpatine commented. "It seems he had a rather rough encounter, but it seems he'll be all right." As they spoke, the two walked up the ramp into the well furnished ship. Palpatine led the way into his ornate office and stood behind his desk. He waved for Anakin to have a seat in one of the large guest chairs, and the boy dutifully sank down silently into one.

As the Chancellor contacted his pilot about their destination, the young Jedi struggled to find some clear thought in his cloudy emotions. Not only was he worried about Obi-Wan and still thinking about the mission, but being in the Chancellor's fancy ship made him nervous. He liked Palpatine very much and thought the man liked him too, but it was still nerve-wracking to talk to the leader of the galaxy all by himself. Adults always had much more interesting things to do than to talk to some kid.

To the padawan's surprise, however, Palpatine took a seat beside him instead of sitting in the chair behind his desk. "So, Padawan Skywalker, how do you feel your mission went?" he asked.

"I guess it was fine, sir," Anakin replied politely, as he had been taught to.

Palpatine gave a small smile. "Come now. It was better than fine, wasn't it? You brought all of the children to safety."

"I'm glad they're safe," Anakin stated firmly. He didn't know what he would have felt if they hadn't succeeded in saving Filch and the other boys from the slavers.

"As am I," the Chancellor concurred. "All of the Katadoni orphans are so near to my heart."

Anakin was reminded that it was Chancellor Palpatine's desire to find the orphans that had made it possible for them to be rescued. "I'm glad you wanted to help them," the boy said respectfully. "The police here weren't doing anything." He remembered the incomplete reports he and Obi-Wan had read.

Palpatine gave him a nod. "Yes, it seems from all the evidence gathered, especially the messages you found that have been cracked so far, that your suspicions were correct." He paused a moment before concluding gravely, "Governor Lamont was behind it all. It's terrible, I know." He paused, and slowly smiled gently at the boy. "But I see I was right in my choice of Jedi for the job."

Anakin's cheeks reddened a little, but only partly in humility. The rest of him felt a little shamed that he still couldn't do more. He had tried not to say anything while they were in the syndicate because Obi-Wan didn't want him thinking about it, but deep inside, he had felt a huge burden to save the orphans. They reminded him of all his friends on Tatooine. Mostly, though, it reminded him that his mother was still a slave while he was here on Coruscant learning to be a Jedi. If he was really a good Jedi, he thought, he should be able to save her. But right now he couldn't, and it made him feel helpless.

"Thank you, Chancellor," Anakin said quietly, "but I don't think I did very much."

The old man's forehead creased. "That's nonsense, Anakin," he countered. The use of the boy's first name got his full attention. "You fought bravely and you won."

The padawan was about to comment that he hadn't really fought much at all, when suddenly he remembered the hangar. The image that came to mind was of the slaver he had stabbed, lying crumpled on the floor, motionless. It had badly shaken him, but the urgency of getting the ship with the orphans to safety had distracted him from his feelings. Now they all seemed to rush back; his shoulders shook with his shaky breaths.

"What is it, Anakin?" Palpatine asked gently.

Anakin glanced at the man with glassy eyes, then quickly looked down and shook his head. "Nothing, sir," he replied in a constricted voice, feeling now not only both terrible and wonderful about having killed the slaver, but embarrassed to show such weakness to the powerful leader.

Leaning forward, the Chancellor said softly, "Come Anakin, something is bothering you. You must want to talk about it with someone."

The boy shook his head as he gripped the edge of his tunic tightly. The truth was, he _did _want someone to talk to about it, but he was also worried what they might say. Jedi killed people; everyone knew that. But when it had come to it, Anakin had _wanted _to kill the slaver who was threatening Filch. Obi-Wan hadn't said anything before, but it was clear he had sensed Anakin's feelings. And now what was Anakin supposed to tell his Master? No matter what he said, he was sure Obi-Wan would be disappointed.

"Anakin, whatever it is," Palpatine vowed, "I promise you can talk to me about it. I hope you trust me."

Swallowing, Anakin forced himself to look back up at Palpatine. He had no reason not to trust the Chancellor. After all, Palpatine was a good man. He had done all he could to help the orphans and, as far as Anakin could tell, he was doing a good job as Chancellor. Besides, the boy thought, it seemed like he really wanted to help. "I feel bad because… well, I had to kill one of the slavers to save Filch."

At the revelation, Palpatine nodded soberly. "This is a part of every Jedi's life, Anakin. Unpleasant," he added, "but unavoidable."

"I know that," the boy assured him. "We talk about it a lot at the Temple. And we're only supposed to hurt or kill someone if it's the only choice we have to protect others."

Spreading his hands out in a conciliatory gesture, Palpatine replied, "Well there you have it, then. The slaver you killed was putting an innocent boy's life in danger. It is the duty of a Jedi to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

"I still feel bad about it. I was mad and Jedi aren't supposed to be mad." That was maybe even an understatement. Even now, thinking about the slavers made Anakin angry, and he had been much angrier then.

The Chancellor hummed thoughtfully for a moment. He studied Anakin as though sizing up what the boy could handle hearing. "May I tell you something about the Jedi, Anakin?" he asked. The boy nodded, his interest piqued. "I have dealt with the Order many times, and I have learned that what they teach is not always what they do in practice." He paused to make sure he had the boy's attention, which he did, in full. "It is impossible never to be angry. All Jedi become angry, even Master Kenobi."

The idea didn't sit well with Anakin at first, but as soon as he really thought about it, it was true. The boy had not forgotten the visions of Obi-Wan's confrontation with the Sith on Naboo. Obi-Wan had been extremely angry, almost furious. Palpatine was right. The padawan's face reflected his confusion. "But it's still not right to just get mad and kill people," he asserted. "I guess Jedi can get mad sometimes, but only at people who are really bad."

Palpatine nodded. "It does not matter that you felt angry at the slaver, Anakin. Your intent was to save someone you cared about. That is always a noble cause. That you were angry with someone with evil intentions only shows your good heart."

The boy slowly nodded. Palpatine's explanation made sense to Anakin. And, Anakin remembered, hadn't Obi-Wan been trying to tell him that it was your intentions that mattered? Maybe what the Jedi taught and what Palpatine was telling him were basically the same idea anyway. A Jedi was supposed to protect good and fight against evil.

"Thank you, Chancellor. I feel better about it now," Anakin said. Partly, it just felt good to talk to someone without feeling like he was going to say something wrong.

"I'm glad." Chancellor Palpatine reached out with his left hand, placing it gently on Anakin's shoulder. "You should never feel you are a disappointment, Anakin. You are very talented and you will be a great Jedi."

_A great Jedi, _Anakin thought. He wanted it very badly. If he were really a great Jedi, then he'd be powerful enough to do all the things he wanted to do, to help anyone who needed help. Most importantly, he could keep his promise- he had promised his mother he would free her, and he would. Anakin didn't know how right now, but his determination to follow through with the promise had been renewed by his encounter with the slavers. No one should be a slave.

Suddenly Anakin realised he was drifting off into his thoughts again and being very rude. Obi-Wan would probably have shot him a reprimanding look or a scold through the Force if he knew Anakin was thinking about his mother, especially while he should be thanking the Chancellor.

"Thank you, sir," he told Palpatine quickly, but sincerely. "I'm glad you think so. And thank you for talking to me." Anakin had been a little surprised at first that Palpatine would be sympathetic to what he had to say, but realised now he shouldn't have been. The Chancellor was a good man, he knew that.

Palpatine reached up and patted Anakin on the head. "Anytime you need to talk, Anakin," he said, "I will always listen."

The soft, familiar sound of swishing robes was the first thing he was aware of. Gentle light drifted through his eyelids, registering as a vague yellowish form on the black background. He was not too hot. He was not too cold. Though his torso and back were covered with protective healing bandages, his body didn't ache now nearly as it had before.

With the deep breath of waking, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. A thin face framed by greying curls looked down at him. He had been in the healer's ward often enough to immediately know Healer Althein. It could not be said that he always enjoyed seeing her, as it had often been associated with pain and accompanied by lectures about being far too reckless with his own health. This time, Obi-Wan didn't mind it at all. He was only happy to be home.

The older woman gently checked the pulse in his wrist. Obi-Wan waited quietly as she moved his gurney into a more upright seated position. Only then did she make eye contact. "Here I was beginning to think I was never going to have the privilege of gluing you back together again, Obi-Wan Kenobi," she said with a shake of her head.

"You should have known better," Obi-Wan replied. He remembered his frequent mishaps on missions, and he wouldn't be surprised if Healer Althein recalled them even more clearly. She had an impeccable memory that hadn't faded a bit with age.

"Bandages," she stated simply, floating a tray of medical supplies to her side.

Understanding procedure, Obi-Wan sat forward and slowly began shirking off the light ward tunic he'd been placed in. His right arm was quickly free, but the left presented more of a problem. Though the swelling in his shoulder had gone down, it was still painful to move and tensed up when he tried.

Healer Althein placed a hand on the injured shoulder. The waves of the Force that easily emanated from her touch reflected decades of practice and were more effective than any artificial pain blocker. She shot him a reproachful look which turned his expression sheepish. "I'm sure only you could tell me," the old woman commented as she helped slide the tunic off his left arm, "how one manages to strain practically all the ligaments in his shoulder at onces."

"I was preventing myself and my padawan from falling," he explained, resisting the strange urge to add 'ma'am' or 'master' in deference.

"From falling?" Althein asked as she began removing the bacta strips from Obi-Wan's back.

By her tone, he could tell she didn't quite believe that was the whole story. "Off the edge of a roof," he admitted, catching her surprised expression before glancing away. It sounded ridiculous, he knew, and he felt a bit ridiculous.

But the surprise faded quickly. "Of course," Althein commented dryly. She clicked her tongue lightly as she pulled off a few more of the bandages. When she discarded them in the reciprocal at Obi-Wan's bedside, he could see that they were stained with a mixture of pus and blood. It did not look particularly good.

"How are they?" the Jedi asked, tilting his head sideways to look at the healer.

"They'll take longer to heal than those cuts on your stomach will." She nodded at the already scabbing thin lines running across his torso. "I suppose you should know that the chemical which caused them turned out to be toxic as well as corrosive."

That confirmed his suspicions. No wonder he'd started to feel so off-kilter during his fight with Kala. He refused to believe that it could have been solely his Force and physical exhaustion. "The burns themselves, though, are they bad?"

Obi-Wan obviously had no way of seeing them, so he tried to sense her reaction instead. She seemed unsure. "Well, you won't die. Then again, you never do." Althein studied the wounds contemplatively. "They will be tender for a few weeks, and there will be some scarring."

The idea of having massive scarring across one's back may have bothered some, but it was the least of Obi-Wan's worries. Some people paid massive amounts of perfectly good money to have scars removed, but he couldn't understand the use. "Well, I do collect them," he said.

That prompted a knowing chortle from the wry old woman. She gestured to a jagged scar on his left side. "From falling on a sharp rock. Running from a pack of denhunds if I remember correctly." Pointing to a dark spot on his inner right arm. "Impaled on a metal rod during the Zibaj insurrection." She gave him a stern look. "And each time, the same complaints about staying overnight in the healer's ward."

Though she always put on an air of being thoroughly exhausted by her frequent patient, Obi-Wan had already come to the realisation that about half of it was only for show. It was somewhat of a game between them, especially, he sensed, now that he was not actually an accident prone padawan anymore. Obi-Wan smiled, feeling a bit nostalgic at the memories. Had he not known better, he almost would have expected to see Qui-Gon sitting in the vacant chair next to the bed, shaking his head and trying to hide a smile at the poor old woman's exasperation.

Obi-Wan's smile faded as he contemplated the empty chair. His forehead creased in puzzlement. "Has Anakin been by at all?" he asked, trying not to sound too troubled about hearing an answer. It really wasn't reasonable to expect Anakin to have stayed at his bedside for however long he'd been unconscious. As soon as he'd asked, Obi-Wan felt a little foolish and wished he could have taken the question back.

Healer Althein glanced at him, then returned her focus to removing the soiled bandages from his back. More than likely, she noticed the young Master's chagrin but was kind enough to pretend she didn't. "He's been here quite a lot of the time since you came in last night," she assured him as she began placing the fresh white strips on his back. "Right now, he went to see some visitors in the hall."

"Visitors?" he asked, confused. He wracked his brain for possibilities. The only people he could think of were his small group of Temple associates and friends, but he would have been embarrassed if they'd come to visit him over such trifling injuries. Master Tyra and padawan Mai'lon were on a mission anyway. Viljo would be busy with the new responsibilities of knighthood. He rather hoped Ryu and Ersha wouldn't visit him.

"There's a whole group here to see you. Quite the admirers." Althein gave a slight roll of her eyes as she finished with the last bandage. Helping Obi-Wan slide the healing ward tunic back on, she asked, "would you like me to bring them in?"

Obi-Wan still wasn't sure who 'they' were, but he sensed that the old healer was not about to tell him. Something in her disposition indicated she was having a private laugh at his expense, but her carefully constructed Force barriers allowed nothing through. "All right," Obi-Wan consented warily.

Obi-Wan swung his legs out from under the covers and over the edge of the bed, his bare feet dangling just out of reach of the floor. If he were going to have visitors, he didn't really want to receive them lying half-conscious in bed.

Althein moved to the door and palmed it open. She stepped back as Filch and Anakin entered. Obi-Wan relaxed a little. At least it wasn't Palpatine. The Jedi nodded silently to the boys. Only then did he see that there were more guests behind them. A pale skinned boy with bright red hair, a little Sullustan with large glassy eyes, a tiny Bothan who walked with a straight back, and a podgy dark-skinned human boy followed along in a tight cluster. Bringing up the rear of the orphan parade was Chai Katadoni.

"They desperately wanted to meet you," Chai said warmly, though a little apologetically.

Though taken aback, Obi-Wan managed to remember his manners and that these boys had been through a lot recently. "It's very good to see you all here safely," he said. He half meant it. He was very glad they were safe, but his experiences with Filch caused him to slightly cringe at the thought of the havoc these boys may have been wreaking within the sacred walls of the Temple.

As if on cue, Filch ran a finger down the wall. "This place is so _clean,_" he commented, sounding unsure if this was a good or bad thing.

"It _is_ a medical unit," Althein commented.

Filch barely gave her a glance before climbing up on to the end of Obi-Wan's bed and plopping himself down in a cross-legged position. "How you feeling?" he inquired casually, as though the Jedi had taken a bad step or had a stomach ache.

"Trodgus!" Chai cried in horror. "Get down from there!"

Under most circumstances, Obi-Wan would have been the one doing the yelling. But recalling the trauma Filch had been through lately, as well as his own partial fault in the boy's kidnapping, Obi-Wan was just happy to see Filch acting his usual self. Although that gave Obi-Wan reason to keep an eye on the boy, lest he get close enough to do some unspeakable physical damage by accident.

The Jedi gave Chai a permissive wave. To Filch, he replied, "I'm feeling better." Of course, considering how he had been feeling the last time he had been able to feel anything, this didn't necessarily mean very much.

The other boys didn't seem to have any questions at the moment. Or at least they were too afraid to say anything if they did. They remained instead huddled near the door by Chai. They were all regarding him with a fair amount of awe, except the Sullustan, whose head was buried in the folds of Chai's flowing skirt.

Anakin could no longer hold his polite silence. "I've been here all night, Master. I mean, I slept some, but you were in another room with the healers part of the time. And you were asleep the whole time, but I didn't leave," the boy insisted, as though that would have been a terrible offence.

Obi-Wan smiled and let out an amused half-laugh. "That's assuring, young padawan," he commented, perhaps a little too wryly. The boy reddened.

Obi-Wan could sense Healer Althein's rebuke through the Force, a reminder that he had hoped Anakin would be there when he awoke. He had expected it because it was what he'd always expected of Qui-Gon, and vice versa. But why, he wondered? Logically, it wasn't as if they could do anything to help each other anyway. There certainly wasn't anything accomplished by Anakin sitting watch at his side all night long. Still, Obi-Wan conceded that, had the roles been reversed, he would have undoubtedly done the same.

The Bothan boy courageously took the opportunity to speak up. "Is it true that you jumped between the roofs?" he asked, the fur on top of his head bristling in excitement.

"And you used the Force to chop up all those bumpy faced aliens?" the podgy child asked, encouraged by his friend breaking the silence.

Obi-Wan felt like clarifying, but realised if he couldn't explain a Jedi's defensive role and relationship with the Force to Anakin, he wasn't going to do well with a bunch of orphans. He settled for, "We did what was necessary to bring you all to safety. That was the primary objective of the mission." He added a smile for good measure.

"_You_ said he chopped 'em to pieces," the red-haired boy challenged Anakin in his high pitched voice.

Master and padawan met eyes only briefly, but it was enough enhancement of their bond to give Anakin the distinct impression that Obi-Wan was not very pleased with his embellished storytelling. "Well," the boy started, giving a little shrug. It seemed as though he were contemplating whether it was better to impress the younger boys or to defer to the Jedi humility his Master claimed to have. He settled for mumbling truthfully, "He got them all and they didn't get him."

"Ace!" the Bothan exclaimed happily. "I want to be a Jedi."

"Me too!" the podgy child chimed in.

"I want a sword!" the pale skinned boy flushed with excitement.

Before Chai could get them quieted down, Filch gave a loud, derisive snort that got their attention. "None of you would ever be Jedi, idiots. You have to have brains and the special powers, too, you know." He added that last bit deliberately, because of course, they _didn't _know anything about being a Jedi. He, with his two days of experience in the matter, was a qualified expert. The other orphans begrudgingly went quiet.

Althein, however, begged to differ with the boy. "Jedi are peacekeepers, not killing machines, young man," she said sternly. "And the dangers of getting involved in combat are very real, as is evidenced by Master Kenobi's injuries."

"But that wasn't the aliens," Filch countered. "I saw that. He got hurt later." His tiny forehead wrinkled up, puzzled. "But how _did _you get hurt, Obi-Wan?"

"That's not important," Chai responded curtly.

But Filch could not be so easily dissuaded, nor fooled, unfortunately. He had witnessed Obi-Wan running out of the hangar after Kala, and quickly put the two together. "You mean _she_ beat you up?" he sounded flabbergasted. "A _girl_?" He quickly turned to Anakin, "You were lying about that lightsabre fight, weren't you?" he sneered. "He never killed any Sith."

Three sets of eyes were immediately on Filch. The Jedi were all in various states of dumbfounded shock. _What in the seven hells of Corellia did he just say! _was the approximate thought running through all their minds, with various reasons. The orphan seemed to wither as the stunned silence grew almost physically painful. Filch seemed quite aware that he'd somehow said the very wrong thing, and tried to make amends. "You did save all of us, though," he said hesitantly. "So that's good…"

Chai was distinctly aware of the disturbance the boy had somehow caused. Grabbing him by the ear, she pulled him backwards, forcing him to unfold his legs and hop off the bed. She held him close to her with one firm hand on his collarbone. "I believe it's time we let Master Kenobi have some space and rest," she said, sending Obi-Wan an extremely penitent look.

The Jedi did his best to swallow his surprise and anger. After all, he reminded himself, it was hardly fair to get cross with Filch who was undoubtedly only repeating what he'd heard. Anakin, however, was another matter; but he would be dealt with in due time. "I'm glad you're safe," he looked over each of the orphans, who looked a bit terrified and confused, and added as nicely as he could, "all of you."

The brave Bothan took a tentative step forward and extended a furry hand. "Thank you, Master Kenobi. It was nice to meet you," he said quietly.

Obi-Wan, glad for the gesture, shook the boy's hand heartily. "The Jedi are always glad to be of service." One by one, the two human boys also shook his hand. The gesture relaxed them a little, and they quickly forgot about the tense moment earlier. The Sullustan, however, stayed pinned to Chai's side. The woman gave Obi-Wan a slight shake of the head, and the Jedi was reminded that, as distracted as the boys were, they had all been through some very serious things. It would likely catch up with all of them soon. Obi-Wan's gaze flicked over to Filch.

Immediately, the boy's dark almond-shaped eyes twitched as if preparing for a slap to the face, even though he was well out of range. When he looked up and saw that Obi-Wan did not appear mad at him, however, his tension eased a bit.

"Filch," Obi-Wan said solemnly, "we are very grateful for all your help." With a twinge of self-admonishment, he added, "And I'm sorry you were endangered because of that."

"It's all right," the boy replied. "I mean, I was kind of following Kala in the orphanage before she caught me." Obi-Wan stared blankly. Filch just shrugged and grinned. "But following her got you to the other orphans, right? So I was proud to do my duty," he said, as though he had planned it that way.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly, unsure of what to say in response to that. He reopened them and simply shook his head. "I might have known," he replied.

The orphan shook his hand heartily. "It was good working with you," he concluded. "And you too, Anakin," he said, slapping the older boy genially on the shoulder. For a moment, the padawan's sickly look of impending doom faded and he smiled back at his friend. "I'll miss you guys," Filch said quietly. As if trying to keep up some appearance, he added, "Most I'll just miss getting to eat good food, though."

"All right," Chai said. "We should all be going. What do you say to Master Kenobi?" she asked.

"Thank you, Master Kenobi," the orphans, even the frightened little Sullustan, recited. The Jedi gave them a smile as they left.

The instant the door was closed, Obi-Wan let out a terse sigh. "Healer Althein, would you mind giving my padawan and me a few moments alone?"

"Of course," the old woman said with a bow. She sensed what was likely coming and was all too happy to leave for a while. Pausing at the door, she turned back and pleaded, "Please do remember your health, Master Kenobi. You need no added stress." This she said to both of them as a warning before leaving.

It was true. Obi-wan's agitation was doing him no good. In fact, the extra tension was only making his back more tense and pained. The Jedi sought to calm himself, but it was difficult under the circumstances. "Well?" he asked Anakin tersely.

The boy wasn't going to get out of this one easily. Obi-Wan was intent on making him explain himself fully. "I told him about that," he said, carefully avoiding the word 'Sith', "to make him feel better. He was worried about his friends and I wanted him to know you would be able to help him."

"Really?" Obi-Wan countered. "It seems to me that you were aiming to impress."

Anakin's eyebrows turned up insistently. "But it helped Filch, Master, it really did," he insisted.

"Filch's assurance may have been the result, but it is your intention that matters. Your motivations were prideful."

"I wasn't bragging. I wanted him to trust _you_," Anakin retorted, a bit too sharply. Realising his mistake immediately, the boy bit his tongue.

Obi-Wan took note of that. Anakin, he had learned, had not quite mastered the art of thinking before he spoke. At least this time the boy had realised how disrespectful he sounded. But more important than that, the Jedi knew, was the topic that had managed to broach again almost on its own. "Anakin," he said seriously, but without anger, "as I was trying to tell you earlier, at the syndicate, the intentions behind your actions are very important."

Sensing where this was going, Anakin headed him off. "You mean when I killed that slaver?" he asked.

Obi-Wan was taken aback by the boy's forwardness. Before, he had not wanted to talk about the matter at all and indeed had seemed deeply troubled. What had changed? "Yes, that, for one thing," Obi-Wan said. "I know it's a very hard thing to come to terms with at first. Sometimes it's a continual struggle as a Jedi who respects all life."

"It was hard at first," Anakin admitted, "but I know that Jedi have to kill people sometimes in order to save other people."

The boy spoke almost too plainly. It was a vast difference from how he had responded to the topic earlier. Obi-Wan felt the issue was too important to simply be dropped. "Yes, but sometimes our feelings taint our perception of certain individuals. We cannot allow ourselves to kill for the wrong reasons, you understand."

Anakin nodded. "I wouldn't want to, Master. I only killed that slaver because he was going to kill Filch."

Obi-Wan was not entirely convinced. He had felt Anakin's emotions at the time and was not about to forget that one of them was a darkly tinted sense of satisfaction. It would be all too easy for Anakin to slip into that deep seeded grudge against slavers. "Your motivation was also personal, Anakin," Obi-Wan stated pointedly. "Did you want the slaver dead?"

"I know we're not supposed to be angry, Master. I'm not. I just wanted to do what was right," the boy stated firmly.

It was the sort of thing Obi-Wan should want to hear. If it were entirely true, he would have been quite satisfied. But while he had no doubt Anakin had wanted to do the right thing in rescuing Filch from danger, the padawan was clearly trying to subdue his true feelings.

Obi-Wan could plainly sense his uncertainty but could not have realised the real source. That Anakin felt guilty for having talked to Palpatine about it first never reached Obi-Wan's mind. The boy hid it carefully. He didn't think it was wrong- there were some things Obi-Wan just wasn't very good at explaining. But Anakin certainly couldn't tell _him_ that.

The Jedi Master, still fatigued by his injuries, was getting tired of this conversation. It wasn't getting them anywhere but to frustration. Obi-Wan desperately wished that there were some way to immediately transfer all his knowledge and experience straight to Anakin's brain. All of this explaining and long process of learning was incredibly wearying.

Besides, Obi-Wan knew very well that the mission was not yet over. The perpetrators had yet to be brought to justice. He wasn't about to go through all this work only to let them slip away while he lounged around the Healer's ward. So, rather than pointlessly argue details Anakin refused to grasp, Obi-Wan turned his mind to more attainable goals.

"Do I have a clean set of clothes here?" Obi-Wan asked. He assumed Anakin should know, considering he'd been there all night.

Confused about the change in topic, Anakin took a moment to reply, "Yes, Master. They're right here." He picked the tunics up off the table beside his chair and offered them to Obi-Wan. Gingerly, the Jedi Master eased himself onto the floor and took the clothes.

"Are we leaving?" Anakin asked.

"Once I'm changed," Obi-Wan replied, turning towards the room's small fresher.

"I don't think Healer Althein will like that," the boy pointed out.

"She'll get over it," Obi-Wan replied, taking a few stiff steps. "We're still not done with our work yet. Do you know if those communication records have been decoded?"

"Chancellor Palpatine said his best men were going to work on it," Anakin said. "I don't know, though, Master. I've been here waiting for you to wake up," he pointed out.

"Ah, yes," Obi-Wan said. "Well, we probably shouldn't waste any more time then." He reached the fresher and was closing the door when Anakin spoke up.

"Master," the boy asked, "did I do all right on the mission?"

"Of course, you did, young apprentice," the Jedi Master said with a slightly perplexed smile. He had assumed the boy realised he had done quite well for his first mission away from the Temple. After all, he hadn't got himself killed, and at this point, even that seemed like an astonishing feat to Obi-Wan.

But Anakin seemed thoroughly relieved for some reason. "That's good. I was worried I was going to mess everything up."

"No, you didn't. Not entirely," Obi-Wan assured him. "Though there was that roof jumping business. That you will need to work on," he added, nodding to his injured left shoulder. In reality, it was Obi-Wan who felt guilt about having asked Anakin to attempt the jump at all. But there was no harm in teasing the boy every now and again, was there?

It was meant as only teasing, but Anakin took practically everything Obi-Wan said to heart. As he closed the fresher door, the Jedi Master failed to notice his padawan's injured and shamed expression.

Coruscant's planetary justice headquarters was incredibly busy this time of day, and every time of day for that matter. It was a loud, bustling building stacked with floors and floors of offices dealing with the highest judicial matters. It made Obi-Wan's head throb unnecessarily.

Anakin had practically begged to come along, but Obi-Wan had pointedly reminded him of his physics lessons. Educational schedules were always flexible at the Temple, but it was the Jedi policy that missions were no excuse for slacking off in a padawan's studies. After all, it wouldn't do to train children to be mindless brutes.

Truthfully, it was a relief to do this last crucial part of the mission without Anakin. The boy had shown his strengths well in this critical trial, and Obi-Wan had taken note of them. The mission had also, however, reminded Obi-Wan of Anakin's weakness for careful discussion. He would learn to hold his tongue in due course, but this was not the time to practice that. Besides, Obi-Wan was personally eager to bring the whole case to rest as painlessly as possible.

As soon as Obi-Wan had entered the governor's holding cell, it became clear that the conversation would not quite go painlessly.

"Perhaps you can explain all of this, Master Jedi." Lamont spoke curtly. The governor sounded irritated, but also truly exasperated. It looked as though he hadn't slept all night, which Obi-Wan doubted he had. Not that Obi-Wan cared how well-rested the man was.

"Relax, governor," Obi-Wan said. "There's little chance of saving face by pretending to be innocent now. They're releasing a statement of your arrest and the charges against you to the media now."

Lamont grew red with anger. "Would 'they' care to tell _me _about the charges as well?"

The governor's usual calm demeanour was obviously harried by the night in custody. Thinking of the terrifying conditions the kidnapped orphans had been under the past week, Obi-Wan had half a mind to delay his answer for a bit longer. But no- that would be petty. Besides, he was very tired and very eager for this mission to come to a close.

Without taking the open chair, Obi-Wan slid the small stack of flimsies across the table to the governor. "Here is your writ of conviction." He gestured to the document on top.

The governor's eyes went wide with panic. "Conviction? On what grounds?"

Usually there were trials for everyone, albeit rather short ones in many cases so as not to clog up Coruscant's busy judicial system. In special cases, however, an individual could be immediately convicted without trial. A vote from the senate justice committee, the Jedi Council, the Supreme Chancellor- two of the three were needed for such an order. The documents Lamont now held bore the marks of the Jedi Council and the Chancellor.

"You'll find all the relevant evidence and statements in the writ," Obi-Wan said. He stood back while Lamont quickly read through the first few statements. Obi-Wan folded his arms. It was a normal way of standing for him, but it had the added benefit of allowing his aching right arm to be supported at the elbow by his left.

After a moment, Lamont's face blanched. He looked up to Obi-Wan, dumbfounded. "Slavery?" He half-whispered the word as though it were forbidden. It seemed only the governor's years in politics allowed him to keep talking when he had no idea what to say. "And it's believed that I went through all of this trouble to gain a small scrap of campaign money? That's preposterous."

"It is not my duty to remark on whether your actions were sensible or not," Obi-Wan said evenly. "I am merely here to present you with the evidence."

Lamont gave him a questioning and somewhat wary glance before looking down to read through the documents contained in the writ. His eyebrows soon flickered; he looked up at the Jedi in shock. "Kala was involved in this?"

Obi-Wan was not about to fall for the ruse. "You've no reason to claim obliviousness. Your conviction is already sealed. Besides," he stated pointedly, "both of you were involved in this together."

The governor's steely resolve wavered both visibly and through the Force. He spoke cautiously. "Is that a presumption or an accusation?"

"It is neither. It is a fact supported by the evidence." Seeing that Lamont was not about to concede the point, Obi-Wan reached for the incriminating document. Pulling it out of the stack on the table, the Jedi set the transcript and visual summary from the surveillance at Dex's Diner on the top of the pile.

Obi-Wan spoke curtly as he pointed to the two dimensional holo captured from the video evidence. "Once I learned of your affair with Miss Sigrid, it became quite clear. Every one of her illegal acts in this matter is clearly tied to you. You may read the full transcript of her conversation with your security officer, though I suspect he's already reported to you."

But Lamont was in no mood to read any further. His Force signature was clouded- Obi-Wan had found this to be true of most politicians. It was certainly true of Palpatine and had been true of Kala as well. They were more adept at concealing their feelings than most. Nevertheless, the turbulence of his thoughts was evident. The governor searched for the right words. He finally asked, "Is this all to be made public?"

"Court documents are a matter of public record unless there is a compelling reason for them to be classified. In this case, there are no such reasons," Obi-Wan stated. It was indeed standard procedure, but part of him was a little happy that Lamont's record would be a public stain. All too often politicians were able to sweep unfavourable incidents away.

The governor sat forward in his seat, leaning up towards the still-standing Jedi. "Master Kenobi, I admit that being involved with Kala was stupid."

"You are correct," Obi-Wan said.

Lamont looked as though he were preparing a retort, but seemed to think better of it, considering their relative positions. Instead, he continued evenly, "But it does not make me a criminal. I knew nothing of this slavery scheme."

"This false Syndicate was providing funds for your campaign. All of the money gained by selling the orphans into slavery was intended solely for this purpose," Obi-Wan stated bluntly.

"Master Kenobi, you must realise that I cannot possibly keep track of all my contributors. There's a campaign to be run, yes, but I'm also a standing official."

"Which is why you have employees such as Miss Sigrid. I understand how the system works," Obi-Wan said. "She was obviously still reporting back to you."

"Yes, but in a broad sense." Lamont was growing emphatic. "None of my campaign workers has a reason to report every contribution directly to me. I know how it must look on the surface, with our affair." He said the last part more quietly. "But in the workplace, I had little interaction with Miss Sigrid."

Obi-Wan slowly refolded his arms, taking time to calm his edgy, tired nerves a bit before continuing. "You appointed her personally as Minister of Humanities. You arranged for the new security system at the Katadoni orphanage- a security system which interestingly enough made it so there were no workers in the hallways to witness the kidnappings."

"I don't understand," Lamont said, his creased forehead scrunching in confusion. "She was the one to pull the alarm. How could she have been involved?"

"She was more than involved. She was in charge of the slavery operation. I can assure you of that personally." Obi-Wan's tight tone left no room for doubt. Lamont would have sensed his still-healing injuries if he were a Jedi, but Obi-Wan had done his best to conceal them. This was certainly no time for seeming weak. The last thing he needed was for Lamont to know that Kala had, somehow, beaten the Jedi in hand to hand combat. It would only give the politician fuel for petty insulting.

Sensing Obi-Wan's solidarity on the point, Lamont sighed and ran a hand through his now quite oily and unkempt peppery hair. After sitting back and contemplating a few moments, he asked, "Has she told you anything? I don't know why she did this, but she would at least admit that it was without my knowledge." It sounded more like a hope than a sure statement.

"The authorities are currently still looking for her," Obi-Wan said.

"She escaped?" For a second, Lamont regarded the Jedi with what could almost be considered amusement. But he was too smart to let it show for long.

Obi-Wan was quite put out by the fact that Kala was still on the loose. At least, that was the presumption since no trace of her body had been found in the remains of the vacant warehouse. It was frustrating, but at this point it was out of his hands. His remaining duty was simply to close Lamont's case. He continued, undeterred. "Nevertheless, she already implicated you. In the transcript you will notice she states clearly she's acting to protect your integrity."

"That seems highly ironic under the circumstances."

"She had just kidnapped the only witness. He was to be sold into slavery as well. It was an attempt to keep me from discovering your connection."

"Now, wait a moment," Lamont countered. "If 'we' were so worried about discovery, why would I have ordered the police investigation in the first place?"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in a gesture that registered as a shrug but was not nearly as painful at the present moment. "For the same reason Kala pulled the alarm- it would have looked much worse had you done nothing. Besides, we both know your so called investigation was lacking. But you did not plan on the Jedi being called in."

"By Chancellor Palpatine," Lamont noted sharply. "For the sole purpose of defaming me."

"The Chancellor's purposes are his own, as I've clearly told you before," Obi-Wan said. It was possible, he conceded, that the extra attention to the matter was brought about by Palpatine's personal motives. He likely saw it as a chance to show up a political rival. Nevertheless, he could not have known that it was the governor himself who was guilty. That lay on Lamont's own shoulders.

But Lamont wasn't buying it. "This ridiculous writ," he picked the cover document up, "is signed by both the Chancellor and the Jedi Council. Say what you like, but you cannot distance yourself from Palpatine in this matter."

It was the same argument, but it was becoming clear that the governor truly believed it, Obi-Wan realised. The sense came not in the persistence of the argument, for politicians would argue anything that suited them for as long as they needed to. But there was a sense of sincerity behind Lamont's words that puzzled the Jedi.

Still, what did it matter if Palpatine was being biased in issuing the writ so quickly? With the evidence Obi-Wan had gathered, Lamont would surely have been convicted anyway. "I stand by the Council's decision," was all Obi-Wan said in response.

The weary lines in Lamont's face darkened. He nodded pessimistically. "Of course. The honourable Jesters would never disagree with their mighty king."

The feelings of doubt that had been ever so slightly building immediately crumbled. A dissent into petty name-calling showed desperation- Lamont was reaching. Obi-Wan was not about to give him a handhold. "In addition to the circumstantial evidence, there are the communications, of course."

"What communications?" Lamont asked wearily.

"Between yourself and the slavers. My apprentice and I retrieved them from the Syndicate's communication lines before they were wiped clean." Obi-Wan gestured to the stack of flimsies. "All of it is in there, of course."

Lamont flipped through the documents and shook his head. "These are all textual only."

"They bear your electronic signature. These could come from nowhere but your personal office."

"Someone could have broken in and faked them."

"Really?" Obi-Wan remarked dryly. "Several times a week without your noticing?"

The futility of this argument was apparent even to the governor. He scratched for another point of contention, and in perfect political form, found one. "If it's assumed I did this, could you tell me why I would have gone through all of this trouble for one small slave trade?"

"Desperation. Perhaps there are others planned as well. That will be the subject of further investigations, but it hardly matters. This conviction alone is enough to incarcerate you for life." Obi-Wan spoke the words calmly, even as Lamont began to grow increasingly anxious with the realization. _Now he regrets having done it, for his own sake,_ Obi-Wan thought.

The governor leaned forward, pressing his forehead into the palms of his hands. After a few moments of collecting himself, he looked up at the Jedi. "Please," Lamont's voice was constricted with worry, "I can see you have no sympathy for me, but I'm asking you to put aside your own prejudices and look at this objectively."

Obi-Wan somewhat resented the implication that he was not capable of performing an investigation objectively on his own. This had been his first investigation in charge, yes, but he had helped with countless others. Everything had been approached fairly, hadn't it?

The Jedi said nothing, but his shift of weight from one foot to the other indicated an impatient agreement to listen a bit longer. Lamont continued in earnest. "You may look at my background. I will be willing to open up any and all records to you. I am an honest man, Master Kenobi," he said sincerely.

The fringes of doubt had been creeping back into Obi-Wan's mind for a moment. It was strange that he could detect no deceit from Lamont. Then again, he had detected none from Kala, either. Whatever tactic she had used was obviously shared by her cohort.

Lamont then added quietly, "I am not perfect, but none of us are. Please, I beg you… think of my family."

Obi-Wan's jaw clenched in indignation. How dare this man presume he could twist a Jedi's sympathies to his will. Obi-Wan was not blind. "You may explain to your family, to your wife in particular, why an honest man lies to them. That is not my duty. My duty here is finished."

The Jedi Master turned sharply and headed out the heavy metal door. It whooshed closed behind him, closing with an air of finality. Obi-Wan headed straight out of the planetary justice headquarters, never so much as glancing back. The mission was over. The case was closed. It was time to put it out of his mind and move on.

It felt darker on this level of Coruscant, colder. All the buildings were lit just the same as on the surface, but every bit of light here was artificial. Day and night felt the same here. What residual slush had managed to drain down this far collected in stagnant pools that dented the pedways like the acidic pockets of a stomach.

In the shadowy recess of an alleyway, Kala Sigrid moved quietly, unassumingly. Her only distinction was the slight favouring of her left knee, bound in a stiff cuff that held the shattered pieces together. Kala wished she could have flown to the appointed meeting spot, but her employer was extremely cautious. She understood the logic of it. Identifying a vehicle was easy enough; finding a half-remembered nameless face was more difficult.

But who would be looking for her now? Oh sure, she knew her sector's police force would make it look like they were actively pursuing her for a while. Kala knew it wouldn't last, though- they had their man. Governor Lamont was already starting the slow, agonizing death of life-long condemnation. She had to hand it to the Jedi. They were swift. They left no room for questioning.

Kala smirked. Jedi arrogance was a truly marvellous thing, she decided. It had made everything almost too easy. Kenobi had immediately discounted her, giving her time enough to feed him the other hints she wanted him to have. He'd missed much of the planted evidence pointing towards Lamont, of course. The Governor's office was littered with all the evidence gained at the diner and more. But in the end all the most important bits had been sorted out. The affair, the Syndicate, the security lapses- eventually it had all "slipped".

_And the amazing Jedi Master was somehow able to pull all the pieces together,_ Kala thought, giving a derisive snort. It had taken him long enough. She had watched the syndicate's rooftop surveillance for a ridiculous amount of time as the Jedi Master and his apprentice fumbled around with their supposedly surprise entrance. The display made Kala wonder how the man managed to dress himself in those troublesome Jedi garments.

She had come to the designated inn and quietly slipped in a back doorway. Managing the way down the tight staircase proved painful. Her knee throbbed dully, and Kala took her anger out in private curses aimed at Obi-Wan Kenobi. Her employer had warned that the fight would be difficult, and though she'd never been in real danger of being apprehended, Kala had escaped with more damage than she would have liked.

Of course, she reminded herself with smug satisfaction, the Jedi had hardly escaped unscathed. It was the first time in Kala's work history that she'd fought with one of the Order. Kenobi was certainly a formidable specimen. But she had been able to disarm and disable him, too quickly for him to recover. Kala revelled in the memory of the lauded, pious Knight withering helplessly against the wall, his life at her mercy.

She gripped the railing of the stairway angrily. What she wouldn't have given at that moment to draw one of her knives across his throat. But Kala had specific instructions from her employer. The Jedi Knight was not to be killed, if it could be avoided. Kala had to admit it made sense. She needed a quick break. She did not need the Jedi Order hunting her down for murder.

Finally, the petite blonde reached the bottom of the staircase. Slowly, she made her way down the hallway, scanning the room numbers. This place reminded her unpleasantly of her 'romantic' dealings with Lamont. Feigning interest in the washed up politician for so long hadn't been the highlight of the assignment, but Kala had endured it. For the lavish price she was being paid, she would endure anything. In half a year she had earned more credits than most in her business would in a lifetime. And her final payment had yet to be collected.

When she reached room B42, the young woman drew herself up, ignoring the pain in her leg and the uneasy feeling in her stomach. Without any action on Kala's part, the door slid open, as though it knew she was there. She quickly stepped into the low-lit room, letting the door close behind her with a hiss.

The room was sparsely furnished and devoid of any personal items. It was only a location for this brief meeting, so it was empty. There was, however, one hollow presence there, but she could hardly call it filling. The robed figure sat facing away from Kala towards the solid wall on the opposite side of the room. It was because of this presence that the room was strangely _more_ than empty. It was like a black hole, sucking all the life and light away. Kala felt it each time she was in the presence of her current employer.

For a moment, the room remained deathly still. Then the figure spoke in a voice that resembled what Kala imagined the dying groan of a Kath Hound must sound like.

"Your task is complete," he said.

Kala's eyes flicked to the credit chip resting on the armoire to her right. She wasn't about to mention it. She was smart enough to wait. "I've completed what you requested."

"Indeed. My evaluation of your skills has proven correct. You have done well."

What was she supposed to say in response to that? She decided silence was the best answer. It was all she could do, anyway, as her throat was beginning to dry up. Half of her wanted to grab the credit chip and make a break for it.

But another part of her was inexplicably drawn to the entrancing figure in the chair. Who was he, she wondered, that he would want Lamont imprisoned? Or, what was more, that he had been able to teach her ways of hiding her thoughts from the Jedi's probing?

The cloaked figure stirred slightly. "You are anxious to receive your payment." It was not a question. Kala nodded, forgetting that her employer could not see her. To her surprise, he replied anyway. "Then you may take what is yours." She hesitated, and he felt it. "Go on," he urged her.

Despite her misgivings, Kala was not about to give up her last, hefty payment. She quickly swiped the credit chip from the armoire and closed her fingers around it. "Thank you, sir," she managed to say.

There was a pause before he replied, "Tell me, why do you thank me? Are you not taking what is rightfully yours?"

Her instinct was to say that of course she was, she'd done her job and deserved to be paid for it. But some feeling in her told her that was the wrong thing to say. Instead, she replied humbly, "You gave me the opportunity."

A slow, terrible peal of laughter echoed off the bare walls. "You know nothing of opportunity, my girl. Your eyes are blind to my designs."

Kala's morbid curiosity was building. What in the galaxy did he mean by that? She stared hard at the pitch hood, hoping to catch a glimpse of her employer's face from the side. All she saw was darkness.

Suddenly, Kala's mind tingled in the inexplicable way it had since childhood, warning her of danger. Instinct made her reach towards one of her knives with her free hand.

But before the swift action could be completed, Kala found her windpipe strangely constricted, and reached for her throat instead. It felt as though a vice were constricting around her neck, blocking off the precious air, but there was no one touching her. The cloaked figure remained completely still in his seat. The vice tightened.

Gasping, Kala fell to the ground, unable to cry out in pain as her shattered knee hit the ground. Dark spots edged into her vision. She was only vaguely aware of the cloaked figure standing and turning towards her. She only barely felt his sable robe as it brushed against her cheek.

The last thing Kala heard was as much in her mind as it was spoken. _Your vision is lacking, _the voice hissed. With one final cough, she collapsed to the floor.

The Sith Lord studied the fallen woman. Her blonde hair fell over her face, obstructing the mask of her death. Sidious brushed it away with a flick of the Force, revealing a panic-stricken countenance. Kala's blue eyes were frozen in a wide expression of shock. She had had no hint of with whom she was dealing.

He noticed the credit chip held loosely in her limp right hand and grimaced with displeasure. It was a pity for such talent to be wasted on meager aims such as greed. The girl had possessed a good deal of power, though she knew nothing of most of it. And Sidious had not failed to note the manner in which she had humiliated Kenobi. It had been tempting to give her leave to kill the Jedi Master, and now the Sith wondered what might have happened if he had.

But, he reminded himself, patience was of the utmost importance. He had taken time to size up Kala and it had given him the insight he had needed. She was too short-sighted, too selfish to ever commit to his greater task.

Likewise, he had bided his time in assessing Master Kenobi. The Dark Lord was inclined to believe it would pay off in the end. Despite his hatred for the murderer of his prized Lord Maul, Sidious had refused to seek immediate vengeance. For now Kenobi held something far more valuable than the Sith's contempt- his future. Anakin Skywalker.

If the boy's delicacy and resentment had been detectable three years ago on Naboo, they were almost obvious now. The Sith relished the memory of Skywalker's confiding in him, in the admirable Chancellor Palpatine, while Kenobi was entirely unwitting. What was more, the boy had confessed his Master's unwillingness to listen. Anakin's thoughts had betrayed him more than anything. There was respect there, but also the slightest unease and resentment. The Sith was delighted. With time, the small crack would become a divide, if treated properly. And the Dark Lord would certainly do his part.

Stepping past the body on the floor, Sidious made his way soundlessly out into the hallway, slipping up the stairs and out into the alley unnoticed. He had already disposed of the inn's manager. No one would ever know of his presence there. He could slip away easily, nothing more than a phantom in the minds of passers-by.

The Sith allowed himself a smile as he moved through the shadows. Everything had gone as planned. The pieces were falling in place wonderfully. That he'd got rid of an old rival in Lamont was merely an added benefit. The real reward was yet to come.

Until then, he would wait. He would find another apprentice soon, one capable of chipping away at the Jedi. And all the while, Sidious would be working towards obtaining the _true _apprentice. He had seen the doors opening to him, had endeared the boy to his Chancellor, ensured they would meet again. Skywalker's guardian would be powerless to stop him. No, it was more than that, the Sith thought with satisfaction.

The Chosen One would be his, and Master Kenobi was going to help him.


	4. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 1

Note: I've decided for this story I'm going to start posting every chapter as I update, so readers don't have to wait 6 months or a year to get a new 'chapter'. I hope you enjoy this episode of the series "In the Shadow of the Chosen". Now I'll stop talking and let you read.

**Episode IV: The Cure**

_"The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea."   
-Isak Dinesen_

Anakin Skywalker jogged quickly, his long legs hurtling up two steps at a time. Beside him, Obi-Wan was working twice as hard to keep up. Unlike his padawan, however, the Jedi Master drew his breaths evenly, resisting the natural urge to breathe with every step. Obi-Wan's teeth were pressed firmly together to prevent breathing through the mouth. Anakin, on the contrary, was breathing raggedly and rapidly. Obi-Wan tried sending him a cautionary flick through the Force, but his apprentice brushed it away.

Obi-Wan drew back in a mixture of surprise and ire. He would have stopped and reproached the boy about it right then had they not been nearly to their destination near the top of the West Tower. It was not long before both Jedi spotted the 247th floor landing. It was only three floors from the top, and it had taken twenty minutes to jog up from the ground floor where the tower met the residency halls. It was four minutes faster than they'd jogged it any other morning.

In spite of his obvious growing exhaustion, Anakin sped up, moved by some private goal. Obi-Wan ground his clenched teeth. He had half a mind to reach out and grab hold of Anakin's dark brown tunic, pulling the young man down back to his senses. _Patience_, Obi-Wan reminded himself in an all-too familiar inner voice. _He probably wants you to chase after him_. In any case, the gangly teenager had sprinted ahead, too far out of reach anyway.

With a tangible surge of the force, Anakin leapt up the last four steps, landing squarely on the level platform at their pinnacle. The boy whirled around, red-faced, gasping, but smiling at Obi-Wan as the Jedi Master calmly caught up with him.

"Seems I beat you, Master," Anakin managed to blurt out between gasps for air.

Obi-Wan scowled silently, shooting a reproachful look up at his padawan as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Anakin glowed, a victorious grin spreading across his face.

"It isn't a race, young padawan," Obi-Wan said sharply.

But Anakin refused to let it go. "Funny, I haven't heard you say that before. All those times you were the first to the top."

The boy's tone was teasing rather than truly upset, but Obi-Wan could sense an undercurrent of honesty in the words. He refused to participate in such petty shows of bravado. In fact, that was just about the last thing he wanted to encourage in his padawan. "I'm leading the group and generally the leader stays in front," he replied pointedly.

"Unless someone beats him," Anakin countered glibly.

Obi-Wan's back straightened, his lips tightening. His tall padawan seemed to shrink in anticipation of the inevitable lecture. Kenobi drew a breath, then quickly took a step back and shook his head. "It's far too early for this," he mumbled, turning and walking through the columns to his right.

Obi-Wan led the way into the large circular training salle. A dozen columns ringed the outside, supporting the vaulted ceiling. The large, open space gave a sense of almost being outdoors, though unlike the gardens, there were no plants here, only stone floors. Masters could view their pupils from a raised vantage point by climbing a short series of steps that ascended in concentric circles to a round platform. A few masters were already there, calling out commands to their kata groups in even tones. Obi-Wan climbed the steps slowly and waited calmly at the top.

Anakin shuffled into the room at a leisurely pace. He stretched his lanky arms then glanced over his shoulder. Seeing that only two other padawans had arrived so far, he took the liberty of settling down onto the floor, seated cross-legged. The corner of Obi-Wan's lip twitched ever so slightly. That was all it took to convey his dissatisfaction to Anakin, who had likely already sensed it quite clearly. The boy casually began twisting his torso about, an innocent expression on his face, as though stretching were his original intent for taking a seat.

The sly performance sparked a strange mixture of ire and fondness in Obi-Wan. He wasn't certain how Anakin managed that. Sighing almost inaudibly, he turned his attention away from his padawan and to the archway where the rest of the kata group was entering.

Technically their group consisted of about a hundred padawans around the age of 20 and their masters. In reality, only about a fourth of the group was ever at the Temple at one time. The Knight Masters took turns leading the dawn exercises, usually two at time. This enabled the padawans to receive input from masters other than their own. Almost as importantly, in Obi-Wan's mind, it allowed for the masters to have some mornings off to practice at their own leisure. It was something Obi-Wan missed. That is, he missed it whenever he had the time and energy to put into missing something.

Bringing up the back of the group was Master Begura Tyra, accompanied by her padawan Lena Mai'Lon. The middle aged master quietly headed towards the platform as her young, jade-skinned padawan made her way to Anakin's side. He glanced up at his friend, and smiled in greeting. The Twi'lek offered him a hand to help him off the floor. Instead of taking it, Anakin popped up to his feet on his own.

Lena rolled her eyes. "You have to be here first and you won't even let me help you off the floor," she said.

Towering over his friend, Anakin quirked an eyebrow. "You're very delicate. I wouldn't want you to strain yourself," he said, sounding completely serious.

The petite young woman gave a small huff. She reached up quickly, ruffling Anakin's blonde hair before he had time to dodge his head completely to the side. "You may be bigger than me but I'll always be older than you," she teased.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Anakin said, frowning as he straightened his hair.

"You haven't even washed yet," Lena pointed out. "It was a mess anyway."

"I mean I wish you wouldn't treat me like a child. I'm not, you know," he snapped.

Lena's jovial face sobered. "I'm sorry, Anakin." After a moment's thought, she added. "I suppose your Cravos mission was just as bad as the last few?"

Anakin shrugged. "It wasn't so bad."

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look very good," Lena replied.

"I'd rather be out there doing something than stuck here with the same exercises and lessons," Anakin grumbled. He was about to continue when Obi-Wan shouted for quiet.

The group fell respectfully silent and awaited instruction. The padawans had long ago learned that Master Kenobi's sessions lasted longer than most, thereby delaying breakfast. The way Obi-Wan looked at it, this produced the positive result of less complaining and dawdling from the apprentices and less wasting of time for all. Besides, he was quite aware that some of them secretly enjoyed the instruction, especially when they were doing lightsabre work.

Without being told, the group quickly fell into four evenly spaced rows of six individuals each. By this age they didn't need to be reminded what to do. At least something in his life was simple to manage, Obi-Wan thought in exasperation.

Glancing at Master Tyra, he asked, "What are your plans for today?" Being almost two decades her junior, Obi-Wan always felt it proper to defer to Begura. She always insisted he was the most polite young man in the temple. He was feeling quite older these days, however, and now the comment always seemed like irony to him.

"Since this is one of those rare occasions where Master Kenobi has graced the Temple with his presence, I think some lightsabre work is in order," Begura said, a smile creasing the wrinkles in her dusky skin.

Obi-Wan shrugged his agreement, and Begura turned towards the group. "Sabres," she commanded. Each padawan promptly drew their hilts and bowed in salute. Master Tyra raised a dark eye-brow at Obi-Wan, signalling for him to take charge.

He wasn't quite in the mood to put the padawans through the grinding, exhausting katas as he often did. Mentally scrolling through the repertoire, Obi-Wan quickly decided on an exercise emphasising single sabre-to-sabre combat in open space. He called out the command. There was a brief pause, then each padawan's sabre lit up and exploded into the routine. The different coloured blades flashed in unison. Slashing forward in a series of advances. Pausing in an anticipatory silence. Circling tightly as their wielders spun to the left, their feet moving in perfect synchronization.

From where Obi-Wan stood, the blades looked like a sea of green and blue light waves. It was the sort of sight that always, always inspired awe as well as a strange sense of calm in the Jedi Master. The perfection of unity was a powerful thing. But it was not quite perfect. It could always be better. As the padawans ended the swift routine, sabres held back at guard positions, Obi-Wan was already tallying up the areas he had seen where individuals could improve. They were such minor things that some might have missed, but he had noticed at least one mistake by each padawan.

But he had to be sure. "Repeat," Obi-Wan called out, and the synchronized rhythm began again.

Without taking her eyes off the group, Master Tyra spoke quietly to Obi-Wan. "It is good to have you back."

"For the moment, anyway," he said.

"I saw the reports on the foiled Cravos royalty assassination plot. It seems that mission went well for you," Begura commented.

"Well enough," Obi-Wan replied nonchalantly.

"But you also look tired."

Glancing sideways at her, Obi-Wan commented almost sardonically, "Tired? I don't know what could have brought you to that conclusion."

"I take it you aren't appreciating your back to back missions, then."

Obi-Wan frowned, focusing his attention back on the group. "It's not myself I'm worried about."

Both masters' focuses slid to Anakin, who was performing the kata with an impressive combination of power and ease. "Well, these are difficult times. The Council is simply using its best people for the most demanding missions." She smiled. "So you might say you're being punished for being too good."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Anakin believes he's handling it well. Physically, he is. But mentally…" he trailed off as the kata came to a stopped silence. Quickly walking down the steps, he moved between two of the lines. Reluctantly, Master Tyra joined him, though it was clear she thought the conversation was not over. When she gave him a questioning look, he ignored it and turned away.

"Repeat," Obi-Wan called. The cycle began again.

This time he walked amongst the group, murmuring corrections as he saw the errors: "Unless you're defending against Master Yoda, your guard is too low"--"Don't hop when you advance, glide"--"That parry circled the wrong direction. You've just swept your enemy's blade across your entire torso." And on and on, the kata was repeated for ten straight minutes, with Obi-Wan intently focused on every movement of each apprentice. He threw himself fully into the work, taking his mind off of his concerns for Anakin.

But his concentration was broken by the entrance of an unmistakeable presence into the room. "Master Kenobi," the deceptively gentle voice said. Obi-Wan turned to see Mace Windu standing under the nearest archway.

"Halt!" Obi-Wan shouted to the kata group, who quickly stopped mid-step. Kenobi swivelled around until he spotted Begura on the other side of the group. "Master Tyra, would you please continue? I need to have a word with Master Windu."

"Of course," Begura replied with a nod. Her face spoke of underlying curiosity, but the venerable master kept the questions to herself. As Obi-Wan made his way towards the Jedi Council member, she resumed instruction.

"Master Windu," Obi-Wan said with a respectful bow.

"Obi-Wan. May I have a word with you?"


	5. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 2

"Of course," Obi-Wan said with a nod. Mace stepped out into the hall and he followed. His shoulders tensed up involuntarily, but Obi-Wan had a difficult time relaxing for some reason. Why had the Council member come to see him personally, he wondered. Though he had no real reason to be suspicious, Obi-Wan could not shake the uneasy feeling that he'd done something wrong.

Having reached an inconspicuous spot behind one of the large columns, Mace stopped and faced the younger Jedi. He looked about to speak when one edge of his mouth quirked in amusement. "Do you have a reason to fear punishment, Obi-Wan?"

For a moment, Obi-Wan searched his brain in panic. He hadn't, had he? Then it occurred to him that Mace was only making a joke at his expense. On his better days, Obi-Wan could have quickly come up with some type of witty reply to the question. This was not one of his better days.

A fatigued, "My apologies, Master Windu," was all he could manage.

The response gave Mace a moment of pause. "You've seemed on edge lately, Obi-Wan. I take it your recent missions have been a strain."

In a sense, Obi-Wan agreed very much with the assessment. The missions he and Anakin had been assigned to without pause over the last month were all physically gruelling. It had particularly taken a toll on Anakin, though the boy would never admit it.

Still, Obi-Wan did not want to give Master Windu the impression that he was complaining. "The missions have been difficult, but I've understood their necessity," he replied. The Jedi were quite aware that the Separatist threat to the Republic had been steadily growing since Naboo. Nute Gunray was currently undergoing a fourth trial in the Supreme Court for the Trade Federation's actions. It was promised to be the last- but the same had been promised of the last three trials.

Mace nodded in return. "Like it or not, the more dangerous assignments have been growing in number." His tone changed from contemplative to inquiring. "The Council has been anxious to hear your conclusions about the attempted assassinations on Cravos."

"Of course. I'm sorry we did not deliver the report yesterday evening when we arrived," Obi-Wan replied. Now he felt a bit daft for having fallen right to sleep the night before. It had barely been past evening meal time, but once he'd learned his ability to stand was compromised by his fatigue, he felt it a fitting time to slip off to bed.

Now Obi-Wan quickly gave a concise report. "It was a highly organized plot, carried out entirely by native Cravosians. But my padawan and I found ample evidence that they were supplied with Trade Federation technology."

The Jedi Council member's eyes slacked in weary acknowledgement. "This is a difficult time for the Republic, and especially for the Jedi. The number of initiates has been dwindling, as I'm sure you're aware. It's becoming increasingly difficult for the Jedi to maintain peace."

At times it was easy for Obi-Wan to forget the larger purpose of his work. The reminder humbled him, taking his mind off his own troubles a bit. "I understand, Master Windu."

"I hope you also understand that we've given you and Padawan Skywalker the missions we have because they require the best Jedi," Mace said. It was clear he did not want to communicate the wrong message.

In spite of the fact that he didn't really _need _any kind of self-esteem boost, Obi-Wan had to admit he was grateful that their hard work had not gone unnoticed. Or, rather, unutilised was the better way of putting it. "Thank you, Master Windu. We are more than happy to be of service, of course," Obi-Wan said. The bit of reassurance hadn't made him forget the weight on his mind, however. "Though I am a bit concerned for my padawan," he added.

Mace looked intrigued, but somehow, not very surprised. "In what way?"

"His combat skills have progressed immensely," Obi-Wan said. Indeed, that was almost an understatement. The boy's combat skills had progressed almost frighteningly, to the point where bouts with fellow padawans, even those some five or six years older, seemed like child's play to Anakin. The fact that he regarded them that way only reinforced Obi-Wan's other concerns, though. "But I fear the other disciplines may be suffering."

Master Windu gave a small, appreciative smile and a slight nod. "I'm glad to hear you've taken note. The Council feels the same."

"Do they?" Obi-Wan asked, the question coming off as almost rhetorical. He fully understood that when a Council member sought you out, it was almost always with the express purpose of telling you what the Council thought. Asking questions to get to the point was a mere formality of rhetoric.

Mace either didn't notice the flippant tone or didn't mind. Probably the latter, considering one did not acquire a seat on the Council for being imperceptive. "That was my reason for coming to speak with you," he said. "We feel both you and Anakin could use some time to re-focus."

Obi-Wan could have breathed a sigh of relief. It was always good to know he and the Council saw eye to eye. Nodding, he replied, "I was hoping to request some kind of respite, for Anakin's sake."

"Your apprentice is of special importance to us, of course," Mace said. He seemed to be choosing his words more carefully as he continued. "We believe it's in the best interest of the Order to ensure he receives the most comprehensive training possible."

The careful speech did not escape Obi-Wan's attention. A flicker of suspicion sparked in his mind, but he continued as though he had not sensed it. "As do I, which is why I was going to request a few weeks sabbatical for both of us." His tone was that of the perfectly trained, automatic diplomat inside him. Sometimes Obi-Wan despised that part of himself, but admitted begrudgingly that it had its uses. "Some time spent in training at the Temple would especially do Anakin some good."

"The Council values your opinion, Obi-Wan," Master Windu said, pausing momentarily before continuing, "However, we had reached the conclusion that it would be best for both of you to have some time apart."

"Apart?" this time, it was a genuine question. Obi-Wan had not predicted that assessment in the least.

"Anakin is not the only one who has suffered on account of these missions," Mace spoke in a gentle, almost fatherly tone. "You're exhausted, Obi-Wan. You deserve a break."

Obi-Wan knew his own rising anger when he felt it, and took a moment to reason with himself. _Don't be stubborn. He has a point. You've not slept well in weeks, _he reminded himself. His reply was much more measured than it would have been had he answered right away. "I admit that some time spent at the Temple would do quite a lot of good. But, with all due respect Master, what do you mean by 'apart'?" He had not succeeded in keeping the offended edge entirely out of his tone.

No doubt, Mace understood what the younger man was feeling. Most likely, he'd known all along this would be Obi-Wan's reaction. He waited before giving his reply in his own time, and spoke plainly. "Master Yoda has volunteered to work with Anakin for a while."

That struck Obi-Wan deeply. Obviously, when Master Yoda 'volunteered' it was, in effect, an order. Obi-Wan wasn't sure whether to be offended, hurt, or humbled. "I see," he said quietly.

"Hopefully you'll both benefit from this," Mace said in a positive tone. "The Council is considering a few less stressful missions for you both." Obi-Wan only nodded a bit absently, his eyes drifting away from the Jedi Council Member.

"This is for the good of your padawan, and therefore possibly for the future of the Order, Obi-Wan." Mace's gaze remained on him- expectant, evaluating.

Obi-Wan attempted to shake his unwelcome feelings. Of course the Council was concerned about both of them. They had every reason to be. Anakin had the most potential power of any Jedi in history. He was perhaps the Chosen One. In the grand scheme of things, the Council had the right as well as the obligation to make his progress a priority. And Obi-Wan was…

What, exactly? The frank answer came from his own stern inner voice- _Expendable. _All of his human nature might be shocked by the idea, but in his mind, Obi-Wan knew it to be true. Anakin needed a Master, but practically any Master would do. Obi-Wan knew the Council had wished at times that it weren't him. He had wished it himself on occasion. He wanted what was best for Anakin. He only wished that he could do more.

Obi-Wan swallowed, an attempt to squelch the tumultuous tide rising within him. "Of course, Master Windu," he replied stolidly. "I understand."

"Good," Mace said, a pleased grin lighting up his face. He was obviously depending on such a compliance. How well he knew Obi-Wan. "Please have Padawan Skywalker report to the East Entrance of the gardens after he's cleaned up and eaten something. Master Yoda will be waiting for him."

"I will tell him," Obi-Wan vowed with a small, sharp bow.

Mace placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder as he passed. "Take some time to relax, Obi-Wan," he said gently. It was a suggestion, but coming from a mouthpiece of the Jedi Council, it was as good as a command.


	6. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 3

Having taken rather longer than usual to get cleaned up, Obi-Wan was one of the last Jedi to reach the dining area for the morning meal. He was able to walk right to the front of the line and fixed himself his customary bowl of kasha with two squirts of termys oil. Despite the bustling crowd of Jedi in the hall, it was easy to spot Anakin. The boy was sitting alone.

Obi-Wan frowned. Master Tyra and Lena usually ate with him and his padawan, but they must have already left. It was far from the first time he had found the boy by himself at mealtime. What few friends Anakin had were often on missions on the occasions he was not. In a way, this way true for all Jedi, but Obi-Wan and his padawan were a peculiar circumstance.

With a grimace, Obi-Wan reminded himself once again that it was he who had taken the boy out of the initiate's classes when he'd first arrived and insisted on training him the basics himself. At the time, it had seemed Anakin was moving much too quickly for the class and he had been eager to accept Obi-Wan's offer to train more like a 'real padawan' than an initiate. Obi-Wan had not foreseen the difficulty the boy would have making friends in the Temple. As if they had needed another reason to be seen as outsiders.

Obi-Wan quietly took his seat across from Anakin. "Hello, Master." Anakin's greeting was reflexive. He chewed his pastry mechanically, and glancing at Obi-Wan's bowl. "Two ladles of kasha with two squirts of termys oil- one is two weak, three is too strong," the boy recited with gentle mocking. "How can you eat the same thing every day?"

Obi-Wan shrugged, taking a bite of the grain mush while all the while his eyes stayed fixed on his padawan. To anyone else, Anakin might have appeared to be just fine, but Obi-Wan knew better. He could sense his padawan's weariness, could see the dull shield over his eyes like scales, even as he joked.

The Jedi Knight took a few leisurely bites of his kasha, settling in before saying anything. "You shouldn't let yourself get so anxious, Anakin. You're developing creases in that forehead of yours," Obi-Wan said, trying to loosen the boy up before relaying the Council's order. He had no doubt it would upset Anakin. The boy never had been very fond of Master Yoda.

The comment drew Anakin's attention fully onto Obi-Wan. "They can't be nearly as bad as that huge crease between your eyes." The boy's mouth quirked up.

"I have no such crease," Obi-Wan said with an indignant scowl. Unfortunately, the expression accentuated the very feature he was trying to hide.

Anakin chuckled boyishly. "There," he said, pointing.

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to rub at his forehead. "Well, any premature aging on my part is undoubtedly your fault."

"You had that when we met, Master." Anakin's eyes now twinkled with mischievous amusement.

"I still maintain the accusation," Obi-Wan grumbled, taking another bite. All this talk of aging was making him quite cross. To the other Knights of their kata group, he was young; to the padawans, he still managed to qualify as old. And the Council had always been divided on the issue, though over the last eight years, they had come to respect Obi-Wan just as any other Knight, despite the unusual circumstances of his promotion. He had hoped.

"Well, if it makes you feel better," Anakin paused to finish off his pastry before continuing, "you're no where near as crinkled as Yoda."

Obi-Wan swallowed hard in surprise. He had never heard Master Yoda, or anyone for that matter, referred to as 'crinkled'. While it was amusing, he was set on mildly rebuking his padawan. He stopped himself, though. Spending several days in Master Yoda's training was punishment enough for Anakin.

"That reminds me," Obi-Wan commented casually, as though it hadn't been weighing on his mind the whole time. "Master Yoda wanted to see you."

Anakin froze. "What did I do?" he asked, a bit nervously. In the past, a meeting with Yoda had usually meant the Council hadn't taken kindly to the boy's antics.

Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow. "Anything I should know about?" he asked, only half joking.

"Of course not, Master. We've hardly been at the Temple more than a day at a time all month. There'd be no time to do anything even if I'd wanted to," Anakin insisted. It was hardly the most encouraging plea of innocence, but he had a point.

"No, you're not in trouble," Obi-Wan said. "Master Yoda merely wishes to spend some time doing training exercises with you for the next week or so." He guessed at the duration. Yoda might be planning to spend more time with his padawan, but if it came to that, Obi-Wan had decided to assert that he was quite well rested by then.

"Training exercises?" Anakin asked dubiously. "Isn't that what _you _do, Master? I am _your _apprentice." He sounded aggravated as well as confused.

"Of course. This is only temporary," Obi-Wan reasserted.

"Was this your idea?" Anakin asked, sounding hurt.

While Obi-Wan wished he could divert the boy's inevitable anger about the situation away from the Council, he was not going to lie. "No, it was not," he said quietly.

Anakin's frustration did not subside, but it was clearly deflected away from Obi-Wan when he spoke again. "So that's what Master Windu wanted to talk to you about?" The silence was his answer. "Why?"

"The Council feels we both deserve a rest and some time apart," Obi-Wan replied, his eyes dropping back to his bowl as he took a few deliberate bites.

Anakin snorted doubtfully. "Some rest. With the Council looking over our shoulders the whole time?"

"It isn't like that, Anakin," Obi-Wan insisted, though he didn't sound completely convinced, even to himself. A part of him was feeling the same thing Anakin was, but he knew it would do nothing but increase Anakin's negativity to acknowledge those feelings right now.

Unfortunately, the boy was just as attuned to his master as Obi-Wan was to him. Anakin's face betrayed a measure of pity as he replied, "You know that's not true. They don't trust you and they don't trust me."

Obi-Wan flinched, trying to hold back his response. He wasn't so sure the Council did trust them, but jumping to that conclusion was presumptuous. Besides, there was always the possibility that they had reason to be wary. He took a deep breath, then shot Anakin a warning look. "Do _you_ trust me?" he asked.

"Of course, Master," Anakin said, a little more calmly.

"My judgement is to agree with the Council on this," Obi-Wan stated with an assurance he did not quite feel. "I will not have you being difficult with Master Yoda. He deserves both your respect and your attention. If you'll listen to him, he may actually be able to teach you something."

Anakin's eyes narrowed a moment before he dropped his head in defeat. "I understand, Master," he muttered.

"Good. Report to the East Entrance of the gardens. Master Yoda is waiting for you," Obi-Wan said, his voice terse with exasperation as much as irritation. Thankfully, Anakin had decided not to give him any more grief. The boy promptly left the table and the room without so much as another word.

As he watched the boy go, Obi-Wan felt a twinge of guilt. He had handled that rather badly. Anakin's attitude towards the Council was uncouth, but Obi-Wan reminded himself that the young man had been under the same stresses he had been as of late. _Perhaps the Council are right after all, _he thought as he wove his way languidly out of the room. He did need some rest.


	7. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 4

The gardens were normally somewhere Anakin loved to go. All the greenery and life was a nice change from the dull browns of the Jedi. The ceilings were so high you could actually feel like you were outside. The East garden was especially natural-feeling, with its tall trees forming a canopy shading everything below.

Anakin was not exactly happy to be here today, however. He allowed himself to tread along the main dirt pathway lazily as he glanced around for a sign of Master Yoda. When the old Jedi was not in immediately plain sight, Anakin stubbornly sat down on the mossy roots of an old tree and resolved to wait. If the little troll wanted to talk to him, he'd come out of hiding. Anakin wasn't about to make any extra effort to look for him. Maybe, hopefully, Yoda wouldn't find him before it was time for his piloting lesson.

Of course, it was a joke to call it a lesson. Everyone knew he was the best pilot in the Temple. They weren't about to teach him anything new. It couldn't be taught, anyway. It was instinctive. The lessons gave him a chance to fly, though, and for that it was worth all the nonsense of being "taught" to fly. At least it wasn't as boring as most of the other lessons and exercises at the Temple.

He wondered if today they would be using the open airspace around the temple or working through some of the lower city. Last time they'd gone there, he'd gotten in trouble for getting out of scope range of the instructor. Anakin had apologized even though it had been his plan to get "lost". The disapproving look Lena had given him afterwards let him know she was on to him. Thankfully, his friend had been good enough not to-

"Ah!" Anakin exclaimed as something hit him dully on the top of the head. His senses immediately returning to him, he sat up, twisted around, and grabbed for his assailant. Master Yoda was just as alert, if not more, however, and easily pulled his cane out of the way of the padawan's reach. Anakin fell onto his side, propping himself up with one elbow.

"Padawan Skywalker," Yoda said disapprovingly, "never is your mind on what you are doing."

"I wasn't doing anything," Anakin grumbled as he sat up, brushing bits of moss off his leather tabards. "I was waiting for you." His tone was disrespectful, he knew, but he couldn't help it. He was upset with Yoda over the whole situation, and wasn't going to hide it. Obi-Wan would not have been pleased had he been there. But he was not, so Anakin's conscience was somewhat spared.

"Waiting you were. Looking, you were not," Yoda said significantly.

Anakin had a feeling this was supposed to relate to some bigger point the Jedi Master was trying to make. That's usually how it worked, but he rarely understood what Yoda was getting at and had mostly given up on it. Master Obi-Wan's lessons didn't always make sense to Anakin, but at least he didn't talk backwards and in riddles.

"I didn't expect you to be hiding," Anakin said. "Master Obi-Wan told me you were going to instruct me."

"Difficult it is to instruct one who does not listen," Yoda replied.

Anakin didn't know whether to roll his eyes or grit his teeth, so he did a little of both. It sounded very much like something Obi-Wan would say, which brought the burning question back to mind. "If we're not going to be on missions, why isn't my Master being given this time to instruct me?"

"Agree with this arrangement, Master Kenobi did," Yoda said, picking up on the accusation.

"I know he did," Anakin replied glumly. Of course Obi-Wan had agreed. When the Council said 'jump', Obi-Wan's reply was invariably, 'Is this cliff high enough? And please excuse the mess in advance.' It made Anakin angry and frustrated, but it also made him sad. He hated seeing anyone give in to supposed authority so easily.

"And need rest, you both do," Yoda added.

"Shouldn't I be resting, then?" Anakin asked.

Yoda raised a brow. "Tired, are you? Difficult have your missions been of late."

Back-peddling, Anakin replied, "No. The missions have been fine, Master." He added the honorific for good measure. In fact, he much preferred being out on missions to sitting around here. It gave him something useful to do.

Yoda chewed on his gimmer stick thoughtfully, staring at Anakin in the way Council members did when they 'saw through you'. Sometimes it was possible to hide things, but without knowing what the Jedi Master had taken exception to in him, Anakin didn't know what to be wary of revealing.

After a moment, Yoda broke his reverie and kept whatever he was thinking to himself. His tone switched from thoughtful to instructive. "Up, up," he motioned for Anakin to stand.

The boy rose, towering over the small Jedi. He stood still, awaiting Yoda's instruction. Better to get this over with than to suffer through confusing conversations.

"Stand on the branch," Yoda said, indicating a limb just above Anakin's head and about as wide around as his leg.

The padawan easily jumped up into the tree, taking only an instant to find his balance. He stood with his legs shoulder-width apart. Yoda remained below, commanding him to stretch his arms out to the side and to stand with his back straight.

With a flick of a clawed hand, Yoda sent three stones roughly the size of Anakin's palms floating gently up towards him. The Jedi Master guided one onto each of Anakin's upturned hands and placed the third on the top of his head.

"Stay still, you must. Do not let them fall."

Unable to move his head now, Anakin glanced down at Yoda with his eyes, looking for a hint of further direction. Was he really just supposed to stand there? It didn't seem that challenging. But the Jedi Master was not looking at him now.

So Anakin simply stood, wondering what in the galaxy the point of this was. The Jedi used static poses for strength and balance building, but that couldn't be what Yoda had requested to see him for. If it was, it was an enormous waste of time. As soon as the young man's arms showed the first signs of muscle fatigue, he simply bolstered them with the Force.

After several minutes Yoda spoke. "Doing something, are you?"

"No, Master. I'm staying still just as you said."

"Yet doing nothing, you are not. Standing, you are. Breathing, you are. Using the Force, you are," Yoda commented.

"Should I not do those things?" Anakin asked. Was this one of those exercises where he wasn't supposed to use the Force for better physical conditioning? He hoped not. He'd never liked those exercises. It wasn't as though he were in bad shape. Besides, his ability to tap into the Force was never as compromised by fatigue as other Jedi apparently were.

Yoda knew his thoughts. "Using the Force, you are, but listening to it, you are not."

"I don't have a reason to listen right now," Anakin replied, a bit confused. It wasn't as though he were pondering some deep personal question at the moment. He was standing on a tree branch with his arms out to his sides and a rock on his head.

"Speak to us the Force does, even when listening we are not." Yoda paused. "Meditate on your feelings, you should."

Anakin made a face, even though Yoda could not see it. The doubtful expression was echoed in his voice. "Right now?" he asked. This seemed like an odd meditation position.

"Consult the Force, do you, only when no other concerns have you?" Yoda made a disapproving noise. "Learn to hear the Force at all times, you must."

"But I do use the Force, Master. And I do my best to think. But you can't waste time thinking when you're trying to save someone's life, can you?" Anakin asked, sincerely wanting to hear Yoda's response. The last several missions he and Obi-Wan had been on allowed little time for personal reflection.

A sigh escaped the old Jedi. "Make too many excuses, you do. Meditate, you must." More quietly, he added, "Much anger I sense in you, though hide it you do," Yoda asserted.

Anakin was quiet, unable to deny the resentment he felt. But even that was Yoda's fault. Before he'd decided on these lessons, Anakin had had nothing to feel resentful about. He was doing fine- more than fine, if anyone bothered to read of his growing skills in the mission reports. Why did the Council suddenly feel an urge to fix something that wasn't broken?

"Meditate, you must," Yoda said with gentle resolve.

There was no way to trick Master Yoda into thinking he was meditating when he wasn't. He inhaled deeply and let out a sigh. It had always been difficult for Anakin to reach a peaceful state of meditation. He was usually either distracted or simply didn't know what he was supposed to be feeling.

Obi-Wan had tried everything he could to help, but nothing had worked. Apparently Yoda had decided this would help. Anakin always had thought Master Yoda was a little mad.

Forcing his eyes closed, Anakin reached out for whatever it was he was supposed to find.


	8. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 5

"-your centre?"

Obi-Wan's eyes blinked halfway open to a blurry world of green and brown. For a moment, they struggled to focus on the shifting figure before him. It was a few seconds before his mind caught up to his senses and Obi-Wan realised the figure was speaking to him. He forced his eyes open, and looked up sharply into Master Tyra's delicately lined visage. The grating feel of bark behind his head and the soft grass beneath his hands brought him back to full awareness of his surroundings. He was in the gardens, leaning against his favourite tree. And Master Tyra was apparently waiting for a response to her question.

Sensing Obi-Wan's utter disorientation, Begura's gave a small, understanding smile. "I asked if you'd had success in finding your centre. I assumed you'd come here to meditate."

Had he? Obi-Wan ran a hand over his beard, rubbing his tired, stiff jaw. "I suppose," Obi-Wan replied, trying to recall. Yes, now he remembered that he had come here to meditate that morning. By the light filtering in through the clear ceiling panels, he judged it to be around mid-day. Apparently things hadn't worked out quite as he'd planned.

"Was I asleep?" he asked. It was a bit rhetorical, but Obi-Wan was having difficulty admitting to the unlikely occurrence.

Begura nodded and offered him a hand, which he accepted, and helped the younger Jedi up from his haphazard slumber.

"What if I had been meditating?" Obi-Wan asked challengingly, trying to salvage some dignity as he brushed bits of bark off the back of his tunic. "It would have been rather rude to interrupt."

Begura shook her head slightly. "You forget, Obi-Wan- I've raised two padawans. I have learned to tell the difference between meditation and sleeping while in a meditative posture."

Obi-Wan reddened a little. This was certainly the sort of thing he'd expect from Anakin, never himself. No wonder the Council had suggested he get some rest.

Begura studied Obi-Wan's red-ringed eyes, observing much without making it seem intrusive. Had he not known her, he wouldn't have noticed the surveying glance. "The Cravos mission must have been more tiring than I'd thought," Begura remarked.

"It wasn't particularly tiring," Obi-Wan replied. "There were a few days without sleep, but nothing extraordinary." To a non-Jedi, the comment may have seemed ironic, but neither of them so much as cracked a smile. Such stresses were simply their reality, more and more as of late.

After a moment of contemplation, Begura took a step towards the stone pathway. By silent mutual agreement, the two Jedi began walking along it, deeper into the heart of the gardens. "You've had a busy month," Begura remarked, benignly enough, but with clear intention.

The conversation had quickly become one of those 'talks' Anakin disliked having with his peers and especially detested having with his master. The reminder of his padawan's difficulties did little to ease Obi-Wan's mind.

"But this has been a difficult time for all Jedi," he pointed out. Which was one reason why Obi-Wan was loathe to admit to any kind of impaired performance. "Our numbers are dwindling as our assignments increase. It isn't nearly a crisis, but everyone must pull his weight. You and Lena have hardly been relaxed."

"That's true," she admitted. "We've been busy, but our missions haven't been nearly as harrowing as yours."

Obi-Wan shook his head. Their mission assignments had been more demanding than other pairs, which was understandable. They had been gifted with certain skills and it was wise of the Council to use them where needed. But things had gotten closer and closer to being out of hand on each successive mission. "Anakin and I seem to invite various kinds of mishap," he said.

"I believe every Jedi in the Temple has seen the collateral damage at one point or another," Begura said, trying to elicit a smile. Obi-Wan obliged, but it was only half-hearted, and he knew she could tell.

They walked in silence for a few moments. Begura was willing to listen if he wanted to talk, but was not going to force anything. He did the same for her and the other masters in their kata group when they needed it. It was the kind of understanding most Jedi had with their friends and peers. It amounted to peculiarly quiet conversations by outside standards, but with empaths, words were not always as important as mere presence and tacit understanding.

Begura was the first to speak, when she realised Obi-Wan was not going to. "You've been doing a wonderful job with the kata group lately." When he'd been around for a day or two- but that went unsaid.

"Thank you. I enjoy it, actually. I wasn't sure if I would."

"I've been here," she paused and smiled slyly, "a while." That almost made Obi-Wan grin. "And I've learned that, secretly, all Jedi enjoy something. I enjoy swimming, you enjoy sabre lessons, and Master Dargo enjoys inventing new stern expressions."

Now Obi-Wan couldn't help but grin at the expense of that particularly abrasive individual. Of course, he realised Begura was intentionally trying to disarm him, and his smile did not quite reach his reddened eyes.

"My padawan was wondering if you might be able to help her brush up on her accuracy," Master Tyra said, adding, "Of course, I told her you might not have the time."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I would like to help Lena, of course." But it was clear he hadn't had time lately. And now… well, he hardly doubted Master Windu would include extra sabre practices in his definition of 'resting'.

Begura nodded her understanding, replying before he had to explain. "It's all right, Obi-Wan. She will understand. We've all been carrying a lot of weight. Some carry more weight than others." Begura looked over at him meaningfully, which he chose not to acknowledge, but kept looking forward.

"We do what we must," he said, folding his arms slowly up into the opposite sides of his cloak, closing up some. "But we must also acknowledge our own limits."

"The occasional need for a reasonable amount of sleep is hardly a limitation to be worried by," Begura chided.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan replied lowly, "That isn't the reason Anakin is with Yoda rather than here with me."

He could sense Master Tyra's growing understanding and saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. "I assume this has to do with your conversation with Master Windu this morning."

"I'm not resentful of it," he assured her. Certainly, he had felt that way at first, but the more sensible part of him had quickly realised that was rather puerile. The Jedi Council acted out of wisdom, not pretension. "I understand their reasoning. Anakin is… important."

"Everyone is important," she insisted. But she knew what he meant. That she did not deny it was significant. "You seemed very worried about him this morning. Has he not been doing well?" Begura asked.

Obi-Wan answered carefully. "His skills have been progressing at a nearly alarming rate." He gave a small grimace. "But then that's hardly the same thing, is it?"

"No," Begura conceded. "But it's also hardly cause for undue alarm. First, it is important to remember that Anakin is seventeen," she pointed out. Obviously, he knew how old his padawan was, but he managed to bite back his unwarranted sarcastic comment to that effect. He knew the point she was making- this was the most difficult age for many people. That Anakin was no different was supposed to assure him, but it did not.

"Besides," she added, "Everyone has their shortcomings."

"Which has become glaringly apparent so far today," Obi-Wan said. His eyes met briefly with his friend's, and he could see she was about to protest his self-derision. He stopped walking and cut her off with a curt wave. "The Council's concerns about Anakin are valid. If they are concerned, shouldn't I be as well?"

Begura paused and seemed to consider whether to agree or not. But the way he had phrased it, he knew she could do nothing less. "Yes, of course. But," she added, "you should consider that they genuinely want to allow you some time to rest as well. It doesn't mean they believe you're ill-equipped to see him through."

Obi-Wan's jaw had been set as stone before she'd begun speaking, but his obstinance was wearing down more quickly than usual today. "Perhaps not," he said. His features softened and he unfolded his arms. "But it seems that I could point him to the stars and he would only see my finger. It becomes," he paused, his eyebrows lifting in a helpless plea to the heavens, "discouraging, to say the least."

Begura remained silent, listening, but willing to let him speak. Obi-Wan realised he'd been prattling on. "I suppose I'm being melodramatic," he half-mumbled. It was a terrible thing to admit- much too like something Anakin might do. "After all, I'm sure every master has had similar struggles with his padawan at one point or another." Now that he thought about it, he was feeling perfectly ridiculous for making such a big issue of the whole thing, really.

"Anakin is a good boy," Begura assured him. "You are helping him to become a good Jedi."

Obi-Wan did not doubt that Begura believed what she said. It was not simply a comment meant to bolster his ego. She truly believed in him, just as he knew there were others who truly believed in him, including many on the Council. He wondered if they realised that confidence only made his burdens more daunting.

But he couldn't say that to her, of course, nor to any of them. He was a Jedi Knight; this was his duty. He had pledged himself to it knowingly. This was no place for self-doubt. After all, how could Anakin trust him if he did not trust himself? But then that was a moot point, since Anakin clearly trusted him anyhow.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said finally, with a bow.

Understanding the polite dismissal, Begura returned the respectful gesture. "May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan," she said.

"And with you," he replied, watching her as she disappeared down the path towards the way they had come. For the good the talk had done him, he was still unable to return her kind smile. Instead, he set off purposefully down the path, continuing toward the spot at the very pith of the gardens.

Here he came to a small clearing, ringed by a carefully trimmed, tall hedge. It was concealed from any outside eyes so as to provide an even more perfect solitude. As he had hoped, there was no one here at the moment. It was not a frequently occupied spot, as it was understood to be reserved for only the most crucial meditations.

Just being in the spot seemed to draw Obi-Wan naturally into a more calm state. Without making a sound, he headed for the shimmering domed structure in the centre of the clearing. It stood a few heads taller than Obi-Wan and measured some three metres in diameter. Silently, Obi-Wan removed his cloak and lay it on the ground. Then he slid off his boots and stockings and set them beside the mantle. Taking deep, calming breaths, he stepped inside the arched entrance to the dome.

His lungs were immediately filled with the gentle spice of the incense that burned on tiny stone squares all around the perimeter of the floor. Obi-Wan's bare feet sank gently into the soft, grey ash that covered the ground. It was re-covered, he knew, by the burning of twigs and branches that fell from plants all over the garden. It was like a gentle cloth against the calloused soles of his feet.

The most striking feature, however, was the dome itself. From the bottom to the top, the walls were constructed from old lightsabre crystals. They had formerly belonged to some of the first Jedi, and had remained in possession of the Order for ages. They had been combined into this structure several millennia before. The darkest ones made up the bottom layer- indigo and deep jade that were almost impenetrable to light. The colours lightened as they reached towards the top of the dome, letting in the sun a bit more. And at the very pinnacle of the structure was a large, disc-shaped crystal cut into facets so numerous that every colour in the spectrum shone through at the peak of day.

It was, Obi-Wan reflected, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The meaning was certainly not lost on him, either, nor was it on any Jedi. It was, in essence, a reflection of the very nature of the Force. It encompassed all colours, all shades of life, and even death.

Rainbows of light danced across Obi-Wan's tunic, his hands, and his hair. He wanted to absorb it, to absorb this whole place, which, he supposed, was the point. It was peace and he most certainly needed peace. Even before he sank to his knees in the ash, he could feel the Force drawing his anxiety away.


	9. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 6

Anakin had done his best not to get tired of Master Yoda, he really had. But after a day and a half of near-silent meditation and being stared at cryptically, he hadn't been able to stand it any longer. This was ridiculous. Even Master Obi-Wan wouldn't have approved of such pointless wasting of time when Anakin could be doing much more important things, like trying to figure out how to crack his Master's infuriating sabre defences. Then again, if Obi-Wan objected to it, he probably wouldn't say anything anyway.

Anakin much preferred to continue with missions instead of sitting around here thinking pointlessly. Being at the Temple always squashed Anakin's spirit. It wasn't the buildings themselves; as grandiose as some of them were, most were actually very beautiful. Anakin especially liked the gardens, when he could be there alone. But he could never truly be alone. The problem with the Temple was that there were far too many Jedi for Anakin's liking. He had a theory that all the sober thoughts floating around through the Force made everyone who entered grumpy.

Anakin was sure that Master Yoda realised he was doing more silent grumbling than meditating, but for some reason, the old Jedi said little about it. Every once in a while, Anakin would shift his meditation position in an exaggerated manner or let out a discontented groan. Yoda said nothing.

Was this how the little Jedi treated all of his students, or did he only like to waste the Chosen One's time? Anakin wasn't sure, but it was infuriating anyway. He'd only suffered through a few days of Yoda's initiate classes before it was decided, wisely he thought, that he was better off just learning from Obi-Wan and not among five year olds. But now here Anakin was, back with Master Yoda and being treated like an initiate. He wasn't quite sure what bringing balance to the Force would mean, of course, but he was pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with balancing stones on his head.

Anakin's patience had lasted until the second afternoon. He was rather proud of that. Finally, he'd suggested, as politely as he could, that neglecting physical skills in exchange for sitting around on rocks and in trees was maybe not the most brilliant idea Master Yoda had had in his however many centuries of teaching.

That had been a mistake.

Yoda had immediately set him to what many padawans grudgingly referred to as 'blind drills'- exercises designed to supposedly improve physical strength without Force reliance. As a result, Anakin had spent the next two days of his treasured time with Yoda trying to punch a candle out.

The candle had been placed on a low wall just at Anakin's waist level. At first Yoda had instructed him to stand so that the flame was only a hair's breadth from his outstretched right arm. Of course, at first he had blown it out with the Force without moving. That had nearly earned him a whack on the shin, but he'd dodged it. Unfortunately, it also prompted Yoda to carefully monitor and block Anakin's use of the Force. He could still feel its presence but was unable to manipulate it.

This especially annoyed Anakin. It was unnecessary and useless. He could have overpowered Master Yoda if he wanted to. Not that he would, of course. He preferred not to go deaf from Obi-Wan's shouting in his ear for several hours, which would be the inevitable outcome. So Anakin gritted his teeth but did not resist.

The exercise hadn't been too difficult at first. It only took him three tries to create a puff of air strong enough to blow the flame out the first time. But then Yoda had moved it farther away. Then farther. It was currently the late afternoon of the fourth day of his time with Yoda. The candle was about ten centimetres from the end of Anakin's fist. It had been there since the midday meal.

Master Yoda was seated behind the candle on the wide wall, his eyes shuttered closed at the moment, though Anakin knew he was probably completely aware of his student. That didn't stop the young man from aiming through the flame and for the Jedi Master's midsection in his mind's eye.

Over and over, Anakin punched at the flame, putting all his physical strength into it. His swings were fuelled by his incredible frustration, but it didn't help. The flame stayed lit, the candle slowly shrinking as the hot white wax rolled down its sides.

Anakin was just about to reach out and snap the stupid thing in half when someone suddenly spoke.

"I hope you don't expect to put it out at that range," Obi-Wan said from somewhere behind. "Because unfortunately I must tell you that you will not succeed."

Startled Anakin whirled around. "Master!" he exclaimed, his displeasure with Obi-Wan entirely forgotten for the moment. Anakin had a bizarre desire to throw himself at Obi-Wan's feet, wrap his arms around his Master's boots, and beg to be taken as far away from Yoda as possible. Figuring that wouldn't go over very well, Anakin bowed instead. As Obi-Wan's actual words registered, the young man grew incredulous. "What do you mean, I won't succeed?"

Obi-Wan looked the young man up and down. "For one thing, you've nearly exhausted yourself," he noted.

For the first time, Anakin realised his neck and arms were dripping with sweat. By contrast, he noticed, Obi-Wan looked relaxed and well-rested. Anakin wondered what his Master had been doing the last four days.

"More importantly," Obi-Wan added, "we all have limits. Especially without access to the Force."

"That's why Jedi use the Force, isn't it? To extend our limits?" Anakin couldn't help letting his irritation show in his tone.

Master Yoda finally spoke up. "The Force itself, are you?" he asked in his mocking rhetorical manner. His ears perked up as he made his point. "Powerful you are, but have limits you do."

Anakin bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from sighing, or worse, from screaming. This was just the sort of indecipherable 'lesson' Yoda had been giving him every few hours. Then, of course, the Jedi Master would fall back into silence. Anakin wasn't learning anything, and he had wondered if he was even supposed to. Maybe he'd been right from the start- maybe Yoda only wanted to observe him. The possibility made him wish he'd shielded his thought better.

"Master," Obi-Wan addressed the elder Jedi, "I received your message. You said you had a mission for us?"

Anakin's face brightened. He looked at Obi-Wan hopefully. The Jedi Master waved his hand slightly as if to say "patience".

Nodding, Yoda replied, "Prepare for the journey, Padawan Skywalker should."

Anakin was about to protest. He wanted to hear the details of the mission, but the expression the old Jedi Master wore insinuated he wanted to talk with Obi-Wan alone. Anakin could guess at why, and was too sick of dealing with Yoda to argue this time. He didn't even consider protesting to his own master. Anakin could predict the response would be something along the lines of "You can pack your things now or you can stay here with Yoda for a few more weeks while I go".

"Yes, Masters," Anakin grumbled, bowing briefly. He turned to make his way out of the gardens, but not without letting Obi-Wan see and sense his displeasure at the whole thing.

The pointed sidelong look his padawan gave him was hardly necessary. Of course Obi-Wan had known since Mace had approached him earlier in the week that Anakin would be less than happy with their arrangements. The young Jedi Master had been displeased himself at first, but had forced himself to see it more rationally. The Council was not composed of fools. If they had a concern that he did not have, it was far more likely that he had simply erred rather than that all twelve of them had. For his part, he admitted the rest had done him good. He wasn't sure about Anakin.

"Ask too many questions the boy does," Yoda said in an exasperated voice.

Obi-Wan gave a slight smile. "I believe it's the mechanic in him; he wants to know how everything works and why."

Yoda's face wrinkled even more into a frown. "Treat the Force like a tool, he does. Fails to respect it."

That was something Obi-Wan had been very much aware of for years. "I know, Master, and I have tried to-" Obi-Wan caught himself before he continued. He knew how much Master Yoda disliked that word. There was no try. And he had not done what he aimed to do. Quietly, he restated, "I have not helped him gain a proper understanding of a Jedi's relationship to the Force."

"Mmm, never fully understand the Force can we," Yoda replied. "Nevertheless, understand your concern, I do. Powerful Jedi the boy may be, but much anger he still has."

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. "He resents many things," he agreed. "The prophecy, the Order, myself, I feel at times."

Yoda gave him a pained stare, as though he wished he could deny those truths. But if he had been sensing out Anakin for the last several days, he had undoubtedly encountered the same difficulties Obi-Wan faced with his padawan daily. Still, Yoda offered some hope. "Great are his skills in other areas. Develop evenly, they must, but gifted differently we all are."

"Of course, Master," Obi-Wan consented. He paused before adding, "However, it sometimes seems as though Anakin doesn't care to understand or listen to the Force. He's long since decided what he believes he needs to know. It's difficult to get him to focus on anything else."

"Stubborn, is he?" Yoda's ears twitched up in mild amusement. "Remind me of someone else, he does." He looked at the young man pointedly, with gentle chiding.

Obi-Wan didn't smile at Yoda's teasing. Instead, it called to mind some of the thoughts that he'd been mulling over for the last few days. Had he been too confident in his own ability to train Anakin? Moreover, had he been stubbornly denying the boy's true potential? Obi-Wan hated any mention of the prophecy. He was unsure of whether to believe it or not, but had concluded that he only wanted to raise his padawan as he saw fit, without the inconvenience of supposed destiny hanging over their heads.

He was beginning to see that perhaps he had been wrong to ignore the possibility for so long. Recently, he'd begun to see Anakin's truly overwhelming power in the Force. It made Obi-Wan wonder. Was this what was needed to bring balance? To counter the creeping threat of the Sith?

Obi-Wan's visceral reaction to the slightest mention of the Dark Lords worried him. If faced with the enemy again, he didn't know how he would react. And he certainly didn't know how Anakin would react. Could they afford such indecisiveness?

"Worry much, you do," Yoda said, practically reading the young Jedi's open mind. "Sometimes, better it is to do than to think. Find a balance in the Force you both must." He reached into the folds of his tunic and brought out one of the small datapads used for mission briefings. "Perhaps give you more time with the Force, this task will."

Obi-Wan took the datapad in his hand and glanced at the activated screen, his eyebrows raising as soon as he saw the destination. "Dunia?" he asked, considering the implication. "The Bayir mission?" he wasn't aware it was time for that particular task yet. The years seemed to have escaped him.

Yoda nodded. "Send our best emissaries, we had promised to." He paused before adding, "Dwindling, our numbers are. Of great importance this mission is."

It was an honour, but Obi-Wan was not sure if he and Anakin really were the best Jedi representatives to send. _Stop worrying, _he reminded himself. He was over-thinking, trying to see the outcome in advance again. _Always in motion is the future. _

Obi-Wan inclined his head in a bow. "Thank you, Master. We shall do our best."

"More than that, I cannot expect," Yoda said meaningfully. Obi-Wan nodded slowly and turned to leave. But before he had, Yoda spoke again. "Obi-Wan," he said, stopping the Jedi in the middle of a step. He looked over his shoulder back at the venerable Master. When Yoda had his attention, he added, sincerely, "May the Force be with you."


	10. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 7

The hillside before them seemed to reach up to the edge of the amethyst sky. A hot, dust-laden wind blew past. Behind them, a thin trail of dirt disturbed by the speeder marked the sole man-made path in the ground. It snaked its way down into the valley and disappeared over seemingly endless hills. The capital of Dunia had long since disappeared over the uneven horizon, but Anakin was still staring back.

"How far is this colony?" the padawan asked, sounding anxious and a bit glum.

Obi-Wan suspected sitting in the back seat of the open speeder for so long instead of flying it was really getting to Anakin. "Patience," he said. It was a word that fell from his lips as easily as 'thank you' or 'hello' these days. "It wouldn't be much of an _isolated_ colony were it just across the river from Dunia City, would it?"

Turning back around, Anakin gave his master a brief glance before focusing on the hillside ahead of them. It was a subtle expression, accompanied by his slight change in mood- basically the Jedi equivalent of an eye-roll. To Obi-Wan, it was reassuring: it was normal. He was still trying to gauge Anakin's reaction to the Council's intervention. The boy had clearly been glad to get out of the Temple but was less than thrilled with the current assignment.

As the speeder approached the top of the long incline, the pilot coasted to a stop. Swivelling around, he addressed the Jedi. "This is as far as our craft are allowed to go. The Bayir settlement of Gaudan is in the valley just over this hillside, sirs."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said with a nod as he took his bag from under the seat in front of him and climbed out. Anakin exited from the other side. "We'll walk from here."

"Very good, sir," the pilot said. "The Shah reminds you that if you require any assistance, you may contact him back in Dunia City." He fired up the speeder's engine and gave a nod before turning the craft around. Within seconds, the transport had dissolved into a rapidly shrinking bloom of dust travelling down towards the rolling plains.

The two Jedi idly watched the speeder disappear. Obi-Wan was doing a fair job, he thought, of hiding his anxiety. Anakin was not so subtly displaying his displeasure with his slumped stance. "Anakin," Obi-Wan began earnestly, "I know I've stressed the importance of this mission to you, but please-"

"I know, Master," the youth turned to look down at his guardian. "Don't mess it up."

"That isn't what I was going to say," Obi-Wan replied dryly. "I merely wanted to remind you that, despite what you may think, this assignment is not a 'waste of talent'." Anakin shifted, uncomfortable with having his own words from their hyperspace voyage turned against him. "On the contrary, this assignment reflects an extraordinarily high degree of trust from the Council."

Obi-Wan hoped he didn't have to explain why. He had already told Anakin all about the treaty Dunia had signed twenty years earlier when the planet joined the Republic. It had been news at the time for the very reason it was so significant for the Jedi. A small, isolated group known as the Bayir had lived in several small colonies in the mountains of Dunia for innumerable years. This would not have been remarkable at all had it not been for the fact that the Bayir were Force sensitives.

It was not quite known just how strong in the Force they were. The Bayir had never submitted to testing by the Jedi. Apparently they were quite content to remain isolated. But Chancellor Vallorum had ensured that a special clause in the Dunian Annexation would also guarantee the acceptance of a Jedi envoy in twenty years time to renew negotiations with the Bayir.

Obi-Wan had been a padawan at the time and remembered quite clearly how excited the Order had been at the prospect. He had never for even a nanosecond entertained the notion that _he_ would be sent as the envoy. It baffled him, to say the least. He had expected, as he was sure most Jedi had, that when this day came the task would fall to Master Yoda or at least to another Council member.

Anakin, thankfully, seemed to register the intensity of his master's pleading stare and all that it meant. Dropping his eyes, he said lowly, "Of course it isn't a waste of talent, Master. It's very important," he added, "to the whole Order. I only meant that it seemed an unusual assignment for us."

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan replied casually, as though he hadn't been tumbling the Council's odd assignment over in his mind for days. "Nevertheless, the task is ours and we shall do what we must." He turned and headed purposefully for the ridge.

Anakin seemed a bit confused at Obi-Wan's ability to so suddenly put a strangle-hold on his worries. It took his apprentice a moment to fall in step at his side. He seemed about to comment when they reached the hilltop and the valley came into view.

For a silent moment, the Jedi took in the sight- Anakin with a sense of awe and Obi-Wan with an unreadable expression.

At the base of the valley stood a cluster of colourful stone buildings carved into shapes that resembled twisted tree-trunks, or melting wax. The city was settled on the edge of a vast, glistening sea that was settled between the towering white mountains on either side. The seaside appeared to be bustling with small vessels. The purplish light of the planet's atmosphere reflected off the water, doubling the lavender glow on the town.

"This is nice," Anakin remarked to break the silence. Obi-Wan glanced at him questioningly. "I mean, when it said _isolated_ I pictured wood shacks or something."

Obi-Wan cringed. "Padawan, it might be good to keep that opinion to yourself." He rubbed his right temple lightly as he took a few steps down the hill. The last thing he needed was for Anakin's mouth to get ahead of his brain and offend someone.

"I didn't mean any offence, Master," Anakin replied with surprising gravity. "I grew up in a place much worse than that."

Though he certainly wasn't about to forget Anakin's background, Obi-Wan admitted, at least to himself, that he sometimes neglected to remember that his padawan's outlook had been differently shaped than his. But this was certainly not the time for debating Jedi philosophy with his apprentice. Instead, he replied, "Grew up? You say that as though you were already an adult at nine. Unfortunately, young padawan, you have yet some growing up to do."

Anakin glanced down at the top of his Master's head. "Really?" he asked, the smirk in his Force signature never showing on his face.

"That isn't what I meant," Obi-Wan said evenly.

The discussion was cut short by the appearance of a figure in the distance moving up the hillside towards them. Obi-Wan immediately snapped into his most professional Jedi mindset. It was reassuring. He wasn't sure why Anakin found that attitude so difficult to adopt- it was much easier for Obi-Wan to be a Jedi than to be anything else. It was natural. Such sentiments seemed lost on Anakin, though, and generally caused him to assert that Obi-Wan would be the absolute worst undercover Jedi in history.

As they continued down towards the approaching figure, Obi-Wan was glad that Anakin quieted his adolescent banter without being asked. Anakin might not truly have understood the importance of a mission that had been anticipated by the Jedi since before he was born, but Obi-Wan was relieved that his padawan at least had the decency to play along. But Obi-Wan also could not shake the lingering concern the Council's intervention had brought to the front of his mind. What did they perceive that he had not?

But now was not the time. Obi-Wan rearranged his concerns to relegate the issue to 'later'. As he had so often been reminded by Qui-Gon, worry for the future could not be allowed to cloud the present. Especially when the present reverberated like a deep gong in the Force, as it did now. The Bayir representative approached.

Up close, it was clear the young man was only a few years Anakin's senior, perhaps not even yet twenty. He stood at about Obi-Wan's height, and was roughly of the same medium build. The long, dark hair he wore back in a tie appeared black at first, but upon a second glance it became apparent that it actually had a reddish sheen. The Bayir were entirely human, but in such confined populations, Obi-Wan supposed unique genetics could develop.

The young man's dark irises stood out against the bright whites of his eyes and the deep tan of his skin. He looked like someone who had worked outside a good portion of his life. The outfit he wore insinuated several layers of tops, the outermost of which was a sort of poncho of a subdued yellow colour. His trousers and shoes appeared to be made of some kind of softened animal hide.

His expression, however, was the most striking thing. Whereas Obi-Wan and Anakin had approached with their 'dignitary' faces on, the young Bayir wore a wide grin. His arms spread wide, he approached the Jedi with great familiarity. "Ava!" he exclaimed, which Obi-Wan could only assume was a kind of friendly greeting.

Then the young man, quite unexpectedly, briefly kneeled on the ground in front of Obi-Wan. When he got up, much to Anakin's surprise, he hugged the Jedi padawan and placed a friendly kiss on his cheek. Anakin shot Obi-Wan the equivalent of a raised eyebrow through the Force, but the Jedi Knight did not respond. Surprising though new cultures could be, they had seen enough of them that they should know to be prepared for anything.

Not that Obi-Wan wasn't a bit at a loss himself, he was just better at pretending he wasn't. He bowed and Anakin followed suit.

"My Jedi brothers," the young Bayir said happily, "it is good for you to be here, at last. We have been waiting."

"We are very grateful for your hospitality," Obi-Wan replied. The Bayir had requested that the Jedi not bring a translator droid, so he assumed politely that the young man spoke fluent Basic. His accent was different from Obi-Wan's, but then no one spoke Basic in the same manner, not even he and his own padawan.

"Il Ahom wishes for us to give to everyone," the young man said, before seeming to catch himself. "Il Ahom is, as you say," he searched for the words a half-second, "the Force."

Obi-Wan took in the explanation with careful attention. Very little was known about the Bayir, and especially about their understanding of their Force affinity. If he were to make any sort of headway with the Bayir, Obi-Wan knew it was vital to present his case on their own terms.

"I forget myself," the young representative exclaimed suddenly. "I have not said my name. I am Dagan rus Liron. The second is my father's name, so you may call me just Dagan. It means 'farmer', which my father expected me to be. Though I am not a farmer, so it is not the best name." He flashed a toothy grin.

"Dagan," Obi-Wan said with a slight nod of recognition. "I am Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"And I'm Anakin Skywalker," Anakin said, giving a small smile. Having recovered from the surprise of Dagan's friendly greeting, the Jedi apprentice seemed to have warmed a bit to their new guide.

"These names are strange," Dagan remarked, adding emphatically, "to me. What do they mean?"

Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged glances. Apparently, neither of them knew. "I am not certain what our names meant originally," Obi-Wan admitted.

Dagan seemed surprised. "Ah, you see this is strange. To the Bayir, what a name means is important." He pressed the knuckles of his fists together in what appeared to be a gesture of contemplation. "I must think of better names for you, but now I do not know you, so I cannot." The Jedi clearly didn't know what to say in response to the declaration that they would, naturally, be renamed. They let Dagan continue, "You also each have two names. Both names are yours?" he asked.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. But as soon as he'd said it, he realised it wasn't entirely true. "Well, the second name is the family name. My father's second name is also Kenobi, as is his father's." Obi-Wan stopped, frowning. For some reason, it felt very odd to say that.

Dagan did not look entirely sure of his understanding. He looked to Anakin. "But then why is your second name not also Kenobi?"

There was a long pause. It took Obi-Wan a while to realise that Dagan thought Anakin was his _son._ It struck him that the Bayir really knew as little of the Jedi as the Jedi knew of them. And either the Bayir had children at a relatively young age or Dagan thought Obi-Wan was quite a lot older than he actually was. He hoped it was the former.

"Ah, no you see," Obi-Wan explained, "Anakin is my apprentice, not my son."

"And Skywalker is my mother's family name," Anakin added, not entirely helpfully. It seemed the further explanation was only making poor Dagan more confused. "It's," Anakin paused, glancing at his master. To Obi-Wan's surprise, he perceived instead of a touch of amusement, a touch of sadness in his padawan's demeanour. Anakin quickly looked away, back to the Bayir. "It's complicated."

"So it seems. Forgive me," Dagan said quietly. Was it Obi-Wan's imagination, or had the young man picked up on the subtle exchange between Master and Padawan?

Obi-Wan supposed he shouldn't really be surprised. Dagan was, after all, Force-sensitive, as all the Bayir were presumed to be. He found himself, for the first time, wondering what the implications of living among non-Jedi Force users would be. And Obi-Wan felt himself, not for the first time, feeling entirely out of the arena of his abilities.

_But Yoda wants you here, _he reminded himself. _There is a reason._ The reminder that this had been the Council's decision was reassuring. At least, it was reassuring to Obi-Wan.

"I should show you more of the city of Gaudan," Dagan said, this time in his more friendly, welcoming tone. "It seems there is much still to be explained."

Obi-Wan couldn't agree more.


	11. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 8

Gaudan proved to be even more spectacular up close than it had appeared from a distance. Settlements on the numerous planets Obi-Wan and Anakin had visited ranged from desolate to ornate, but generally fell somewhere in between. This place, however, managed to marry the useful advancements of society with the familiarity of a small village.

The streets bustled with everything from foot traffic to some kind of elevated commuter tram that appeared to move via the large, ringed magnets it passed through along its track. It didn't seem to be a construction of any of the major galactic transportation yards, which had seemed to be the standard provider of Dunia City. No, Obi-Wan observed, this was something unique. It had to be an advancement of the Bayir themselves, which made him wonder what other home grown technologies they possessed.

He took it in and tucked it away, just another part of his routine observations of new surroundings. This mission might be more squarely in the spotlight of the Jedi Temple's attention, but it was still just another mission. Obi-Wan was a firm believer in proceeding with the old, confirmed practices as long as they continued to work.

Anakin, on the other hand, was more easily distracted by the unusual aspects of the town.

"These houses are amazing," he commented as they followed Dagan towards the seaside on a footpath lined on both sides by the unique buildings. All the while, Anakin's eyes were fixed upward on the towering, stalagmite-like structures. "They look like some kind of organic art." He ran a hand along one of the rounded walls.

"Our masons take great pride in their work," Dagan affirmed. "My second father, my father's father," he said to Obi-Wan by way of explanation, "is a mason. He built my house and many of the other houses by the bay."

Obi-Wan decided some calculated interest in the subject might not be bad. In the least, it gave them something to talk about. "It must take quite a bit of work to move such large pieces of stone," he remarked.

"No, no," Dagan replied with a shake of his head. Gesturing in his animated way to the nearest house, he clarified, "The stone is not moved. Homes are not built; they are carved from the ground."

Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged equally puzzled glances. "I'm afraid I don't understand," the Jedi Master confessed.

"Hus," Dagan puffed slowly in thought as he stopped walking. Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure whether it was a word or not. The young man glanced around, searching for something. He took a few steps down the footpath towards the sea.

"Ah, here," he said, waving enthusiastically for the Jedi to follow him out past the edge of the last row of houses.

They obliged him, joining him on a narrow wooden walkway. As they looked down the shore, it was apparent that this walkway spanned the entire length of the seaside, which was at least a dozen kilometres. It was their first view of the sea up close, and in the planet's fading daylight, the silhouettes of small boats dotted the bay. What was visible of the sea was a large, tear-shaped cove, surrounded on three sides by the town. At the far end, the water narrowed to the width of a sizeable river and disappeared around the increasingly large mountains that dominated the whole western skyline.

Following the eyes of the Jedi, Dagan nodded towards the sea. "This is Gad Mayim," he said.

"It's beautiful," Anakin said softly, unable to tear his eyes away from the seascape before him.

Obi-Wan supposed it was, but was not so easily transfixed as his young padawan. "This is where you do your fishing?" he asked their young guide.

"This is where we leave for fishing," Dagan corrected. "The kind of fish I catch live in Ittamar." He pointed one calloused finger out towards the mountains.

Squinting in the general direction, Obi-Wan could see a strip of the mountain-range where the land was whiter and the sky darker. It was the only distinct area in sight, and he assumed that must be where Dagan was pointing. "Where the shadow is?" he guessed.

"Yes," Dagan said. "It is always dark there. Much colder." He grinned. The weather here in Gaudan was balmy, but if Ittamar never saw the sun that would explain the apparent iciness.

Anakin pulled his eyes away from the sea abruptly, frowning. "But how could it always be dark?" he asked.

For the moment, Anakin sounded little like a Jedi emissary and very much like a confused boy from a planet with two suns where daylight was always, always blindingly bright. Obi-Wan had often been reminded of the seemingly indelible Tatooine child that lived on in his padawan. It alternately made him amused and worried.

In this instance, however, the Jedi Master just smiled. "Is shade that difficult to imagine, Padawan?" he asked with a hint of amusement. To Dagan, he said, "I assume Ittamar in under the asteroid ring of the planet."

Dagan nodded. "Until we had developed lenses to see into space, we knew nothing of the cause of it. Some still believe the old legend that it is a lair of Ra'ah, of evil. But I have been there and know that is not true." He smiled reassuringly.

Still, something in the way he spoke the word _Ra'ah _gave Obi-Wan the impression that the concept itself had some real meaning to the young man. The Jedi took a quick mental note, but didn't ask about it. Dagan had told them they would be meeting with the leaders of the Bayir at his home for the evening meal, and Obi-Wan was not keen on being late.

"You were explaining about the houses," Obi-Wan reminded him. "Sorry, which way was yours again?" he asked as though wanting a reminder, when in truth Dagan hadn't said. Still, the subtle hint did the job of setting the group walking again towards their destination.

"Yes, this way," Dagan said, turning to the left and leading the way down the boardwalk. As he guided them, he continued the previously forgotten point about masonry. "See all the way at the end? The stone in the hillside?" he asked, looking back at them over his shoulder.

Both Jedi nodded.

"This whole area, all of Gaudan, was once flat stone. Just like that, all stone." He waved to the houses now on their left. "All of the houses were carved out of the ground, dug out, not built up." Dagan stopped a moment to point out a particular house. "See, there are no breaks in the stone."

"All of these houses are single stones?" Anakin asked, his tone thick with disbelief.

Dagan began walking again, turning around intermittently as he spoke to the Jedi. "All houses in all of Gaudan are from one stone. The great stone plane that covered the valley. It is different colours in different parts, but it is all one stone." Anakin shook his head wordlessly, and Dagan flashed a white grin, obviously amused by the younger man's stunned silence.

"It is," Obi-Wan admitted, "an incredibly impressive feat of architecture. I'm sure masons like your grandfather are very skilled." He also wondered if it was meant to hold any of the symbolism he saw in it. The towering houses varied in shape, but on the whole reminded him of the giant arbormite mounds on Dantooine. It was almost as though the entirety of Gaudan were a part of one collective hive… or perhaps he was simply too imbued with the Jedi sense of _everything_ being a metaphor for something else. He was sure that's what Anakin would say if he voiced the idea out loud, at any rate.

"He is most proud of the home he has built for my family," Dagan said. "That one." He pointed to the second to last house. Instead of the somewhat lumpy appearance the other buildings in the town had, Dagan's house had the smooth, spiralling curves of a whipped dessert. It certainly didn't look like it was made of stone.

Before either Jedi could comment, a voice called from the direction of the sea. "Ava, Dagan!" a Bayir in an approaching outrigger hollered, catching their guide's attention. He wore clothing similar to the colourful ponchos they'd seen on most of the town's population, though it appeared to be made of some synthetic polymer, most likely water-resistant. As the boat pulled up to the dock, another man leapt out and began mooring it to a stone pillar.

"Ava, Eion!" Dagan called back to his friend with a smile. Hopping down from the two-metre high boardwalk, he landed deftly on the pebbly beach and ran to his friend. The two briefly embraced and spoke rapidly in their native tongue for a few moments.

Eion, a lanky young fisherman whose tanned complexion was further darkened by a layer of dirt, eyed the two strangers standing up on the boardwalk and asked Dagan something in Bayir.

"Yes, these are the Jedi," Dagan replied in Basic, apparently in an attempt to be more polite to his guests. "Obi-Wan and Anakin," he introduced them in turn, opting, Obi-Wan noted, for the more manageable versions of their names. Judging by the earlier confusion over names, it was just as well.

For a moment, Eion stood still, seeming unsure of how to greet men standing metres above his head. Obi-Wan decided to dissolve the awkwardness a little by hopping down onto the shore. Anakin followed a step behind him.

"Ava, Yedi," Eion said in a thick accent, pronouncing the 'j' as a 'y'. He seemed less than enthusiastic, and very wary about this meeting.

Dagan muttered something to his friend in Bayir, and the man flashed him a glance before bowing his head slightly in acquiescence. He lightly knelt before Obi-Wan, his left knee hardly grazing the ground before he was back on his feet again. The Jedi both bowed in return. "We hear much of you," Eion said.

"All of Gaudan has been talking of the arrival of the Jedi in the last month," Dagan added. "As you can imagine."

"They talk in other cities, too," Eion said, managing to act casual despite the gleam of discomfort in his dark eyes. "Everyone asks 'who are Yedi?' and no one knows."

"Well, that is why we are here, hopefully," Obi-Wan replied, trying to project a non-threatening aura through the Force towards the tense young man. "To alleviate some of your concerns and answer your questions, perhaps to form an alliance of sorts."

Eion's wariness didn't seem particularly assuaged.

"The Jedi want to get to know the Bayir," Anakin added, much more simply and probably more intelligibly to Eion, who clearly didn't speak Basic extremely well. The Jedi apprentice smiled genuinely. "And we want you to get to know us."

It took a moment, but the young fisherman's shoulders relaxed just slightly. "Yes, we hope," he said, managing a half-hearted smile. "Hus… Dagan?" Eion motioned back over his shoulder at the boat.

"Ah, yes," Dagan said with a nod to his friend, adding something in Bayir that sent the fisherman back to the boat. To the Jedi, he explained, "This is the boat I fish on. They have just brought in a large catch. I must help them bring it in so it can go into town on the tram, you see." He pointed out a ramp a few metres down the shore which led up to the boardwalk and a tram-loading station.

"Of course," Obi-Wan said. As much as he didn't wish to be late to the evening meal, he was more concerned now about the way Eion had reacted to them. There had been curious glances from the Bayir as they'd made their way through town, as was to be expected. The Force had radiated intrigue but Obi-Wan had thought he'd sensed a fair measure of caution as well. Apparently he'd been right. He and Anakin would have to make an extra effort to show goodwill towards the Bayir.

"Here," he said, jogging to catch up with Dagan after a few seconds of thinking. "We'll help you." Obi-Wan motioned for Anakin to join him, which the young man did dutifully.

Dagan looked a little surprised and perhaps about to protest. It wasn't, after all, normal in most cultures to set honoured guests to work hauling fish as soon as they'd arrived. But the young man was clever enough to see the intent in the gesture. "Thank you, that would be very kind," he said.

It turned out that Dagan had not been exaggerating when he'd said it was a large catch. The narrow outrigger looked deceptively smaller on the outside- about 10 metres from bow to stern and 3 metres across. But its underwater compartments seemed unusually deep to Obi-Wan, even though he didn't really know all that much about boats. The hull cut a sharp v a good 3 metres down, tapering to a point like a knife. Instead of having a level floor inside, there were simply beams across at various places, allowing for the entire hull area to be used as storage, right down to the bottom. There were no interior cabins, only four hammocks hanging from the beams. It seemed that every other nook and cranny was filled with net upon net of tube-like black fish.

Working with Dagan, Eion, and the other two crew members, Obi-Wan and Anakin managed to help make quick work of the unloading. Obi-Wan actually found after a few trips that he was able to carry two nets at once, whereas the other, lankier members of the crew carried only one. Unfortunately, as soon as Anakin spotted him, he had to outdo him, and on his next trip out of the ship, his padawan was lugging all _three_ of the remaining nets up the ramp. He was obviously using the Force to help him with this particular display.

Anakin looked straight ahead as he passed Obi-Wan on the ramp, ignoring the way his master folded his arms and shook his head disbelievingly. The youth piled the last of the nets onto the tram-loading platform and turned around with a satisfied half-grin on his face.

"Padawan, I seem to recall recently having had a conversation about your need to turn everything into a competition," Obi-Wan said evenly.

"Not everything. Only things I can win," Anakin replied, his blue eyes gleaming mischievously before he turned to follow Dagan down to his home.

Obi-Wan halted Anakin with a firm hand on one of his apprentice's leather tabard-clad shoulders. "I'm serious, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. He vividly recalled Master Yoda's observations about the boy's flippant use of the Force and wasn't about to be lenient on the issue.

Seeing the look on Obi-Wan's face, Anakin's gleeful expression faded and he bowed his head. "Yes, Master," he said, his mood sobering.

It wasn't that Obi-Wan desired to crush the boy's spirit. Not at all. What bothered him was that the boy never seemed satisfied in his proper service as a Jedi. He was only truly happy when pushing the limits; at least that's how it seemed to Obi-Wan. But maybe he was not the best impartial judge of such things.

"Come," Dagan called from a little way down the path.

Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged glances a moment before the Jedi Knight took the initiative. "All right, come on then," he said, forcing the tension out of his tone as he walked away. Anakin fell quietly into step behind him.

"I know we both smell unpleasantly like fish," Obi-Wan said, forcing some of his lighter wryness into his tone, "But do try to be on your best behaviour for this evening, as we are meeting the leaders of the colony. Please?"

Anakin's reply was dutiful, but with an undercurrent of honest effort. "Of course, Master… I don't mean to make you look bad or anything."

"It's fine, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, trying not to sigh. It was always so difficult to be firm with the boy without being too abrupt, and Obi-Wan was entirely unsure that he'd ever been able to strike the proper balance. "Just do your best," he said. "That's all I can ask."


	12. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 9

Inside, Dagan's house turned out to be as spectacularly carved as the outside. The mouldings around the doorway were a pattern of intricately sculpted stone flowers. Likewise, the stone shelves in the kitchen jutted from the walls at seemingly random intervals and were stocked with various food items. A shimmering, deep green stone table was the centrepiece of the room. It was, however, notably devoid of food, which, Obi-Wan thought, was quite curious considering they were scheduled to dine there with the Bayir leaders. In fact, the Jedi were already late when they arrived.

More puzzling, however, was the fact that said leaders were conspicuously absent. Obi-Wan was mildly worried that they had already left, offended by his and Anakin's tardiness.

If that were the case, Dagan showed no sign of it. The young man simply strode right through the kitchen and out a door leading who knew where, calling out something in Bayir.

Obi-Wan and Anakin stood quietly in the kitchen for a few moments, taking in the sight in awkward silence. Despite his confusion, Obi-Wan didn't really want to say anything about the somewhat strange treatment their host was giving them. After all, Dagan might return at any moment. Hopefully.

Anakin rocked back on his heels, then forward, then back again, the soles of his boots making a soft taping noise on the hard floor. He continued the irritating rhythm with a look of complete patience and innocence on his face, which naturally led Obi-Wan to believe he was purposefully annoying his master.

Thankfully, Dagan did re-enter, and just in time to save Anakin from another brewing lecture. "My friends," the young man said happily. He stepped inside the kitchen, his arm draped gently over the shoulder of a petite young woman with a cheerful, round face.

"This is my wife, Onah ris Vered. And this," he motioned to the squirming child in her arms, "is our daughter Nusa ris Onah. The second name is her mother's, you see, as it is the same for mothers and daughters as for fathers and sons."

_Well,_ Obi-Wan thought, even as he outwardly masked his surprise,_ this certainly confirms the theory that the Bayir marry early. _

"Hello Onah," Anakin said, taking a step forward. "I'm Anakin. I'm glad to meet you." He smiled in greeting, and the young woman gave a shy smile in return.

"Ava, Anakin," Onah said in a smooth, quiet voice. "We are happy to have you in our home."

"And this is Obi-Wan, Anakin's Jedi instructor," Dagan said, helpfully waving the Jedi Knight in closer.

Stepping in, Obi-Wan gave a courteous bow. "Thank you for your hospitality, m'lady," he said. "You have a lovely home here, and a lovely family."

"Nusa is a blessing for us," Dagan said, a glowing, prideful smile gracing his features as he squeezed his wife's shoulder with one hand and calmingly stroked his daughter's feathery dark hair with the other.

The child gurgled and drooled a little on her father's hand. A rather mixed blessing, Obi-Wan thought. The young Bayir didn't seem to mind. Instead he chuckled a little and said something softly to the child in his native language. Then he kissed Onah softly on the forehead.

In the Force, Obi-Wan could sense Anakin ripple faintly with what he assumed was impatience. Sympathising, Obi-Wan did his best to tactfully steer the conversation. "She is beautiful," he began, indicating Nusa.

Before he could continue, Dagan's face lit expressively as he asked, "Would you like to hold her?"

It didn't seem much of a question as the child was quickly foisted into Obi-Wan's arms. Nusa squirmed a moment until she had found a comfortable position, which incidentally meant cutting off the Jedi's circulation with a surprisingly vice-like grip on his left wrist. So much for steering the conversation, he thought dryly.

"Making new friends, Master?" Anakin asked, the edge of his mouth quirking up just slightly.

"This is a good sign for you," Dagan said. "Nusa is very good at telling what kind of a person someone is."

Ordinarily, Obi-Wan would have dismissed the comment as the frivolous boastings of a young parent. But, as he truly took a moment to study the little girl, he could sense the clear, budding affinity for the Force within her. It occurred to him that there was a perfectly logical reason the child had been so comfortable in the arms of a complete stranger. What was more, it reminded him of why they were in Gaudan in the first place.

"You'd better take her back, though," Obi-Wan said, handing Nusa back to her mother. "We really ought to get to meeting with Gaudan's leaders."

"Ah, yes," Dagan said, apparently finally realising he'd completely neglected to mention that at all. He didn't apologize and didn't really seem all that phased by the lapse, though. He simply said, "We can go into town for the banquet if you are ready."

"The banquet?" Obi-Wan asked, thoroughly lost.

"Ohna tells me some people of Gaudan have decided to give you Jedi a nice welcome. We can meet the leaders there," Dagan said. "But first let me take you to your rooms." He quickly turned and scooted past his wife, into the sitting room, and bounded up the stairs.

Anakin passed his Master with a cheerful smile. It was clear he wasn't bothered in the least by the seemingly flexible schedule. What was more, he was most likely fully aware that it was making Obi-Wan want to pull his hair out. Naturally, Anakin rubbed it in.

The Jedi Master gave his padawan a tight smile. To Ohna, he inclined his head and gave a soft, "Excuse me, m'lady," as he made his way past her and followed his padawan up the stairs.

---

By the time they stepped off the near-empty public transport, the Dunian sky had fallen into the deep indigo of night. It had taken a full standard hour, at least, before they actually headed into town on the tram. After an extensive tour of Dagan's house, the young man had insisted upon his guests taking the time to get cleaned up.

Though Obi-Wan was quite happy to rid himself of the fish smell, he was worried about holding up the banquet. He rushed to get ready, only to wind up waiting with Anakin for their host to finish dressing. Obi-Wan was getting the impression that the Bayir weren't big on schedules. At least he hoped it was the Bayir in general, and not just their host.

If they were late, no one seemed to notice or care. A blaze of warm light, accompanied by the sounds of what had to be several hundred people talking jovially radiated from an open square just down the road from the tram stop.

"That is the town centre," Dagan explained. "We have all of our big meetings there. That is where the banquet is."

Obi-Wan had been more in favour of the private meeting in Dagan's home, but his apprentice seemed to be of the opposite mind. "It's great that so many people want to meet us," Anakin told Dagan with a smile.

"Yes, but first, our leaders are coming." He motioned down the street. In the awkward lighting, Obi-Wan could only see the silhouettes of two figures approaching with the slow grace of the venerably aged. After a moment, his eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to make out the faces of a small elderly man with a bald head and white beard and a slender older woman with narrow, elegant features.

Obi-Wan was about to bow deeply in a show of respect when he noticed that both Dagan and Anakin had gone to one knee. Ah yes, Obi-Wan remembered, he'd been meaning to ask about the kneeling and other gestures of greeting. The best time for the inquiry would probably have been before meeting the leaders of the colony. He himself had been knelt to and he'd taken it as some kind of respect for your elders. In any case, it was better to be more polite than less. Obi-Wan dropped gently to one knee.

One by one, the Bayir leaders leaned over and gently kissed the tops of the kneeling men's heads, then stood back. Obi-Wan waited to rise until Dagan had, in case there was anything else to the little ritual. There wasn't.

"Ava!" the compact older man greeted them with an ebullience suggesting unusual spryness for his age. He must have been at least 70.

"Ava," Anakin replied genuinely.

A gleam lit the old man's eyes as turned to the young Jedi. "Already using Bayir words. Very good! Do you know what 'ava' means?"

"Not really," Anakin said, a little sheepishly.

This time the woman answered, in virtually unaccented Basic. "It's a wish for peace, which the Bayir value highly." Her cool alto tone was softened by a small, welcoming smile.

"Do not worry if you find our customs difficult to understand," the man told Anakin, though Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel the gentle comment was also meant for him. "It is all new to you. You may bother me with any questions Dagan cannot answer."

"Those may be many," Dagan said. "Unless you ask me about boats and fish. I can tell you everything about those."

Obi-Wan looked at the old man, searching for some kind of official symbol of his leadership. Unfortunately, there was none that he could see, so the Jedi Knight took an educated guess. "Are you Qohel?" he asked, hoping he was pronouncing the title correctly.

The old man looked pleased at the recognition, and nodded. "Yes, I have been for five of the galactic standard years."

Obi-Wan had been given little information on the Bayir from Master Yoda's previous mission report, but had spent the hyperspace journey studying it carefully so as not to appear completely oblivious.

"Then you must be Qohelya," Anakin said to the woman. The young man caught his master's pleasantly surprised expression and gave him a quick _I can read, too, Master_ look.

The slender woman nodded. "I am the current Qohelya, yes. Forgive me, we weren't given your names. You are Masters-?"

"I'm Anakin."

"Master Anakin is it?" she asked.

"No, just Anakin. I'm not a Master," Anakin clarified.

Qohel and Qohelya both looked to Obi-Wan expectantly, but said nothing. Perhaps giving one's own desired form of address was wisest, Obi-Wan agreed. Not wanting to get into the mess about last names again, he settled on, "Master Obi-Wan."

Dagan, who had been standing politely silent broke in helpfully, "Anakin is Master Obi-Wan's student." Obi-Wan gave him a grateful smile for helping to avoid further confusions for the moment as well.

"I see. Very good," Qohelya said. "My apologies for the misunderstanding."

"The only Jedi we have met was Master Yoda when he came to propose the treaty," Qohel explained. "We were not quite sure what to expect of you. Some had expected all Jedi to be small." There was not the slightest hint of mischief in his eyes, but Obi-Wan could sense some amusement through the Force nonetheless.

"No," Anakin said without a trace of a chuckle, "thankfully, not all Jedi are like Master Yoda."

"What Anakin means," Obi-Wan added, "is that a Jedi may be of any sentient species. It is an individual's connection to the Force that is important." That was not, of course, what Anakin really meant, and Obi-Wan made sure his padawan knew it with an easy warning through their Force bond.

"Ah, yes," Qohel said, glancing briefly from one Jedi to the next. Something in his eyes changed, and he said something in Bayir to Dagan, who nodded and hustled off towards the town centre. "He is going to prepare our table." There was a pause, and a change in demeanour from everyone, as if realising this were the end of necessary pleasantries. "We are, ah-" Qohel said a word to his associate.

"Obligated," Qohelya translated.

"Yes. We are obligated to tell you something." The old man pressed his knuckles together, a gesture Obi-Wan remembered Dagan using before while in contemplation.

Qohelya spoke with less hesitation than her counterpart. "Most of the Bayir, those who haven't been on the Synod to hear the discussions, have no knowledge of your intentions here."

"Our intentions?" Obi-Wan was not sure what the Bayir interpreted their intentions to be. The treaty had specified only that there would be a meeting between the two societies, though the underlying implications were very clear.

"You want to take Bayir children back to your Temple, to train them as Jedi," she said plainly.

Obi-Wan sensed a bit of wariness, and his natural eloquence immediately kicked in. "Our wish is to form an alliance, whatever that may entail," he answered, to placate.

It had the opposite effect. The welcome in her voice dropped considerably, and Qohelya gave him an even stare. "Master Obi-Wan, perhaps you should be reminded now that deception is no good here. Your Force speaks to us as well."

Obi-Wan could have sworn he felt the cool sting of the chastisement in the warm night air. Perhaps he really could, though it had been a while since he'd been mind-rebuked through the Force in such a way. It was something the Jedi used almost exclusively on padawans.

The rebuke must have been real enough, because Anakin seemed to have sensed the occurrence and gave his Master a slightly shocked look. Obi-Wan gently waved off any kind of protest his padawan may have been planning. The boy instead turned his mind in a different direction. "Does Dagan know? About the possible testing?"

"No," Qohel said with a firm shake of his head. "Only elders who are now or who have been on the ruling Synod know. Master Yoda made it clear." He added, in a more conciliatory note than his colleague had offered, "We understand and wish to hear your proposal. But we wish not to tell the people yet."

"We want everyone, ourselves included," Qohelya said, "to know more about both of you and to know more about the Jedi. All we require of you is honesty on these subjects."

"We shall do our best to provide an honest view of the Jedi," Obi-Wan assured her.

"That is very important," she said. "No good parent would trust their child to someone they didn't know. And the people of Gaudan are very good parents."

"I understand," Obi-Wan said.

"And you, Anakin?" she asked.

It took a moment for the boy to make his reply; Obi-Wan noticed he seemed to have been drifting off into his thoughts again. "Of course," Anakin said, quite sincerely. "That makes perfect sense. I think it's a good plan."

"You must also promise me something," Qohel said, his expression turning jokingly stern as he placed a hand up on Anakin's shoulder. "You must promise you will relax. Breathe, enjoy yourself, hus?" he shook the boy genially.

Anakin smiled. "All right. That seems like a reasonable mission."

"Both of you," he added, pointing a finger in Obi-Wan's direction. Obi-Wan nodded, humouring the old fellow. In reality, he was not about to turn this into some kind of holiday. But he could see now that the introduction process here would take some patience.

"Now, the meal should be ready," Qohelya said, gesturing towards the light and noise of the town centre. "This way, if you please."


	13. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 10

The swelling and ebbing sounds of conversation reverberated off the stone buildings surrounding the open town centre. The echoes could be felt like a gentle, welcoming wind. The feast was in full swing, and the Bayir were truly enjoying it. Having guests was apparently an occasion for great celebration, which was not entirely unusual. Obi-Wan and Anakin had encountered several such situations before.

The variance in the nature of such occasions, however, never ceased to amaze Obi-Wan. This feast showed little of the kind of grandeur of more aristocratic societies such as Alderaan. Here the diners reclined casually on soft mats around knee-height tables. Others ate sitting haphazardly on the amphitheatre-like steps around the outside of the large semi-circle courtyard.

It wasn't necessarily the quiet meeting with the Bayir elders that Obi-Wan had hoped. The Jedi had been swiftly introduced to a number of the Synod members from various surrounding towns upon their arrival. There had been such an onslaught of new faces and names that Obi-Wan wasn't sure he'd remember half of them. Anakin had seemed absolutely overwhelmed, and would most likely remember none.

The boy was, however, more at ease in the company of their small table. He had been more than willing to shed his boots in accordance with the Bayir custom. While Obi-Wan had opted to fold his legs beneath him, Anakin was leaning sideways on a pillow, as their hosts were.

"This bread is very good," the Jedi padawan said, tearing off a third hunk of the spicy loaf. "What is it made of?"

"Like normal bread," Qohel's granddaughter Susah answered matter-of-factly. "Would you want mine?" she asked.

"No, that's all right," Anakin replied with a polite smile.

"We have much. I can get more for you," she offered, shifting into an upright position.

"No, thank you. I really am almost full," Anakin insisted. Having seen how much the young man could eat, Obi-Wan doubted that. But he was pleased by Anakin's pleasant demeanour. The worry he'd felt when they'd first arrived over Anakin's sour attitude about the mission had begun to dissolve. In fact, Obi-Wan was a bit surprised at how quickly the young man had warmed to the assignment.

"This bread," Qohel said, mid-bite, "was made by Qohelya. She is very good at baking. That is what she does as a job." He smiled up at his fellow leader, who had remained seated with stately posture.

Obi-Wan was intrigued. After swallowing a troublesome bite of stringy purple vegetable, he commented. "That's very interesting. Do individuals usually continue to hold jobs while ruling?"

"Of course," Qohel answered, seeming surprised at the question. "How can a Qohel help lead his people if he is not one of his people?"

"I believe that is a reasonable expectation," Obi-Wan said, digesting the information and readjusting his thinking. A mission of this calibre may not have been his normal assignment, but he was quite skilled in carefully observing people and was determined to put his skill to use. He needn't be the only one under observation. "What is your occupation?" he asked Qohel.

"I make clothes. Most I make from chirab skin, like shoes," he gestured to the pile of sandals and boots the diners had deposited at one end of the table before eating.

"We always have new shoes in our family," his grandson answered.

"Yes, Melek uses too many. He is a shepherd. He walks too much and is too healthy." Qohel's eyes shone good-naturedly at Melek. The younger man replied swiftly in Bayir, then ducked to avoid a friendly swat from his elder.

Obi-Wan was reminded of Master Yoda and simultaneously sensed the same bemused thought from his padawan. Anakin chuckled, and Obi-Wan shook his head almost imperceptibly at the private joke. The Jedi Knight sensed Qohelya's perceptive mind focusing on the two of them.

"What kinds of jobs do you have?" Susah asked, breaking Obi-Wan's fleeting concentration on the inscrutable elder.

"Being a Jedi is what could be considered a full-time occupation, you see," Obi-Wan said. He was very aware that many people saw the Jedi as aloof from the galaxy at large. It was a false impression he hoped to avoid giving to the Bayir, so he added, "Our occupation itself brings us into all parts of the galaxy."

"Forgive me," Melek asked. "We hear very little about Jedi. What kind of work do you do?"

Obi-Wan nodded mid-drink to indicate that he would answer the question as soon as he'd swallowed. Conveniently, the timing gave him a moment to decide on the best way of replying. "A Jedi's job, as it were, entails a great many things. At its core, the Jedi Order is dedicated to guarding peace and justice in the galaxy. That work takes on many forms, and every Jedi has his or her own skills, of course."

"And what are your skills, Master Obi-Wan?" Qohelya asked, folding her hands atop the low table.

Obi-Wan was aware of everyone at the table staring at him expectantly. He chose his words delicately. "Anakin and I do a considerable amount of physical protection, but also a good deal of negotiation whenever possible." It wasn't really an answer to the question she had asked, and more than likely she knew it. But Obi-Wan did not think resorting to bragging would be a wise idea.

Qohelya seemed satisfied enough with the answer, however, and shifted her focus. "And Anakin." The young man looked up from his hunk of bread, but thankfully didn't reply with his mouth open. The silent acknowledgement proved enough. "What do you feel the job of a Jedi is?"

Anakin slowly sat up, glancing at Obi-Wan before replying in a practiced 'padawan answering what the master wants to hear' tone. "I agree with what Master Obi-Wan said."

"But?" Qohel asked, intrigued by what had not been said.

Obi-Wan was equally interested in what his padawan had to say. He tried not to show it, and while he may have fooled the Bayir, his forced expression of disinterest betrayed his expectation to Anakin. The young man avoided his master's glance.

Looking ahead at the Bayir leaders, Anakin replied carefully, "Well, I do also think a Jedi should focus on helping the people who really need it, the people who can't help themselves. I think that's our most important work." Obi-Wan nodded, and he could have sworn Anakin nearly rolled his eyes at the gesture. It gave Obi-Wan a moment of pause. Did Anakin think him disingenuous? That was clearly the signal his padawan was sending to the Bayir leaders, who took note of the young man's silent scoff and exchanged a meaningful glance.

Obi-Wan was embarrassed, and very much wanted to sharply question his padawan on his disrespect. But that would hardly help build up his esteem with the Bayir. So instead, he kept silent, which he feared also made him look guilty of what Anakin had accused him of. Obi-Wan desperately hoped someone would say something to move the conversation along.

"You make money for this job?" Susah asked, either not Force-sensitive enough to be aware of the supraconscious tension or smart enough to divert it.

"No," Obi-Wan replied, "it isn't exactly a paying job. We are provided with basic living needs and Jedi don't really have personal possessions anyway."

"My job does not really pay either," Melek replied, adding with a straight face, "But not on purpose."

His wife gave him an almost child-like affectionate shove, and they shared a brief, tender kiss. Then, she asked, "What do you do when you are not working?"

"We're always working," Anakin replied without a hint of humour.

"Always?" Melek asked, disbelievingly.

"It feels like it. Either working or being instructed."

"For a young man, there is learning in everything," Qohel said with a knowing smile. It seemed like the kind of comment Anakin would normally have balked at, but being more relaxed than usual, the boy just shrugged instead.

Melek wiped the last crumbs of bread from his hands. "This is a job you do now, being here?"

"It is a job, but it is also our pleasure," Obi-Wan answered smoothly.

No one replied, and the table fell into an uncertain silence. Obi-Wan himself sensed the hollow placation of his words only after they'd fallen heavily to the stony ground. He really must remember to hold back the usual diplomatic mask with the Bayir. Their desire for authenticity was a stark contrast to many supposedly sophisticated leaders he'd dealt with. Obi-Wan searched for some meaningful tract of conversation to fill the uneasy quiet.

Fortunately, Qohel was one to always have something to talk about. "Anakin, you are how old?" he asked, not intrusively but in a way that signified he had some follow-up questions planned.

"Seventeen," Anakin replied.

The old man nodded. "I thought so. Where you are from, is this a good age to start a family?"

"No," Anakin replied without hesitation. "It's a good age to be old enough to do work but still young enough to have to attend lectures."

A toothy grin wrinkled Qohel's dark, weathered features even more. "That is a bad age. It is very bad for your teachers," he added with mock gravity. "My father was a teacher, and I was a bad student, so I know." That provoked Anakin to a delighted grin. "This is true, Master Obi-Wan?" Qohel asked the elder Jedi.

"It can depend on both teacher and student," Obi-Wan acknowledged. "Anakin is a very good student, when he chooses to be." He gave his padawan a familiar look of half-jesting admonition. "But a Jedi Master and Padawan are different. They spend almost all of their time together and of course it sometimes becomes tiresome, for both sides." The last bit earned him a grin of agreement from his apprentice.

Qohelya leaned forward, unconsciously showing her piqued interest. "How many years does this apprenticeship last?"

Obi-Wan had already noticed the change in the direction of the conversation. It may have still validly fit the premise of "getting to know you" chat, but it had not escaped him that only the leaders were now asking the questions. "The length of an apprenticeship is different in each case. My own lasted almost 15 years."

"A very long time," Qohelya commented. "Bayir spend only a little more time than that living with their parents."

"Is your apprenticeship from birth?" Qohel asked, this time directing the question at Anakin.

"Usually from about age 10. Before that, most Jedi grow up in the Temple." He glanced at Obi-Wan, obviously uncertain as to how to describe his own situation, or whether he should at all.

The Jedi Knight gave a small downward wave to indicate it would be better not to. It would only complicate their explanation of Jedi life. Besides which, Obi-Wan was well aware that Anakin disliked having to explain his life as a slave.

"How does apprenticeship end?" Qohelya asked.

"A Master will usually confer with the Council when he feels his student is ready," Obi-Wan replied. "As I said, there is no set timeframe. The Jedi want to be very sure that each of their pupils gains a proper respect for and understanding of the Force, however long it takes." He could sense, practically hear Anakin's mind begin to churn with vastly premature worry over the subject. It wasn't something the boy had voiced as of yet, but lately it had been clear his impatience was getting him frustrated with some of the finer aspects of apprenticeship which he had yet to master.

"Forgive me, Master Obi-Wan," Susah spoke up, clearly filled with some festering curiosity. "I wonder, if you spend nearly all your time training and doing Jedi work, do you have much time to spend with your own family?"

"Oh," Obi-Wan replied. "I'm not married, nor do I have any children of my own." He carefully avoided saying he had 'no family'. By now he was certain that would not sound at all like a proper way to live. "Most Jedi don't marry for," he hesitated, "somewhat complicated reasons."

"I'm sorry," Susah replied gravely. "I did not know."

Obi-Wan gave her an easy smile, which he hoped was perceived by the whole table. "It's quite all right. The Jedi community itself is very close."

"From what you have said about masters and padawans," Qohel observed, "I would say it is a family, even if not by blood." The others murmured agreement, except Qohelya who was silently scrutinizing Anakin. For what, Obi-Wan could not quite tell; he didn't understand his padawan himself sometimes.

Fortunately, the next course of the meal arrived, stilling conversation.

It was almost a full hour later before the meal was entirely finished. The satiated diners all around the courtyard were relaxing languidly on the soft cushions and blankets they'd brought to sit on during the meal. Obi-Wan and Anakin's table had begun to disperse, its members floating away to mingle with their large network of friends and family.

Only Qohel was left with the Jedi, who were both a bit _too _satiated due to mores that forbade them to turn down what food was offered in their honour. The three were sitting in companionable silence. Or, rather, Obi-Wan was sitting while Qohel and Anakin were both lying back on their elbows. All three were watching a group of young men and women improvising a percussive song with various curved drums and the clanging of metal rods against one another. But as crude as it seemed at first, Obi-Wan very soon realised the musicians were actually creating an intricate rhythm.

"I see you enjoy our food." The presence of Dagan's bright voice was accompanied by his sudden appearance and plopping down right in front of the two Jedi.

"It was great," Anakin commented.

"And the music," Dagan looked over his shoulder at the makeshift band. "It's very nice." It wasn't exactly a question, but Obi-Wan would have agreed anyway. There was a quality of genuine ebullience in the tune that radiated good will.

Anakin, for his part, had more to say. "It's amazing," he commented, sitting upright and folding his arms loosely over his bent knees. "It reminds me of some of the street musicians where I used to live. They'd make great music with nothing but drums and pieces of junk. And they'd put out a little tin for people to throw spare wiuppi in." He became more animated as the memory unfolded and Dagan's interest was clear. "I knew one of those guys. Torak." Anakin grinned fiercely. "He made more money than the regular workers did most weeks. And lived in a great house. But he'd still be out there, every day, begging money off the less suspecting travellers." The apparent joy gleaming in his eye was tinged with a bit of sad nostalgia, and his tone was softer as he added, "he was talented, though," and trailed off.

By the end, Anakin wasn't simply telling the story of a Tatooine street musician. Obi-Wan could tell when his padawan drifted off into that other world, that private, inscrutable world of his, and this was one such moment. Anakin's thoughts were veiled, and Obi-Wan had always respected the young man's privacy enough that he wouldn't dare intrude. That hardly kept him from wondering.

The group was spared another awkward silence by the increasing rhythm of the drums. As it picked up, in fact, it evolved into a steady, quick beat with a definite pattern. It did not take long for several other Bayir, some young and some nearly Qohel's age, to jump up from their seats and move to the open area of the courtyard. They began a complicated set of motions, a whirl of stomping and slapping themselves lightly on the arms, the legs, the hands. It all seemed quite arbitrary to Obi-Wan at first, but it quickly became clear that there was some kind of logic to it. The dancers in fact made a synchopated echo of the beat the drummers played.

"Hus!" Qohel exclaimed in delight, springing suddenly up from the mat. "This dance is very old. All Bayir love this dance." He joined the edge of the dancers, showing an unnatural fervour and sprightliness for a man of his years.

Dagan scooted over into the place vacated by the Bayir leader, and nudged Anakin. "Will you join?" he asked, almost challengingly.

"I'm sure Master Obi-Wan would like to," Anakin replied, giving his master an angelic beam of a smile. The Jedi Knight raised one eyebrow.

"You will?" Dagan asked.

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a dancer," Obi-Wan declined politely. "That looks far too intricate for me. I am enjoying observing, though."

"Yes, it is a great dance," Dagan agreed. "It makes, ah," he waved a hand as if he could literally pull the words down out of the air, "the music of the Force, you know? It symbolizes that." Obi-Wan wasn't entirely sure what the young man meant, but somehow he sensed the significance of it, and nodded slowly. "Do the Jedi have any dances?" Dagan asked.

Anakin let out a sharp laugh. "The Jedi? No." He laughed again, and Obi-Wan could guess at what sort of mental picture might have cropped up in the boy's mind. It was, he would have confessed, rather amusing. "I think the closest thing we have to something like this," Anakin indicated the blur of dancers, "are katas."

"Katas?" Dagan rolled the word over his tongue, as if testing its flavour. After repeating it a few times to himself, he declared, "You must do one."

"Now?" Anakin asked.

"Yes, yes," Dagan urged. "Both of you. You can both do it?"

"Well…" Obi-Wan struggled for a good excuse. It hadn't exactly been his plan to put on a display of the potentially deadly power of the Jedi to a group of people they'd just met, but Anakin had once again spoken without much thought.

Dagan, however, gave no time for a roundabout answer, and rightfully assumed Obi-Wan's reluctance indicated they did indeed have the ability to perform a dual kata. Without another word to his guests, the young man leapt up and ran to the musicians, shouting something only they could hear above the pulsing beat of drums and limbs. They exchanged a few words, then the musicians began to nod. They stopped playing in a surprisingly abrupt manner. The exhausted dancers paused mid-step. When everything had quieted down, Dagan began speaking to the whole assembly in a loud voice. He motioned towards the two Jedi, and there was a murmur of anticipation from all those listening. Then, with surprising speed, the dancers all cleared out of the semi-circle courtyard and retreated to their mats and the amphitheatre-like stone rows.

Neither Jedi needed to have Dagan's words translated.

Obi-Wan and Anakin both stood, the master deliberately taking his time as they walked towards the open area. His manner and Force disposition gave voice to the unspoken "wonderful suggestion, Anakin" that would have been out of form.

"I suppose we had better make this good," Obi-Wan said in a low voice only Anakin could hear.

"The Zilbeth sabre kata?" Anakin suggested, unclipping his hilt from his belt.

Obi-Wan followed suit. "That will do," he replied, "if you can manage to remember that it is a lightsabre-"

"Not a veenball board," Anakin finished with a touch of exasperation. "I know, Master."

The two Jedi now stood facing each other, not quite two metres apart. The crowd was completely silent as they anticipated whatever it was they were about to see. Obi-Wan and Anakin drew their hilts from their belts and simultaneously ignited the blue blades. It was a motion so fluid, so ingrained, it had become as simple as walking to the Jedi. But the sight drew an excited murmur from the onlookers.

The Jedi locked clear eyes for a moment, the mere instant needed to centre themselves on the point in the Force where their souls were joined with a bond forged through years of training. Neither had to signal when to start. In the same instant, Anakin and Obi-Wan spun towards the physical centre between them. The motion ended with Master and Padawan standing back to back with one another, each facing his own phantom adversary.

A brief pause, then the two halves of the kata exploded. Lightsabres sang as they cut through the night air, first striking, then defending. The sound of bare feet on the stone walkway was quieter than the onlookers expected. Indeed, the Jedi seemed hardly to be touching the ground as they moved through an often inscrutable azure haze. A pattern, however, could clearly be seen. Both men gravitated towards and around a central point that hovered always between them. As they moved one way across the courtyard, their centre moved with them.

Obi-Wan and Anakin circled this point, using it as an anchor in what could otherwise have been an extremely dangerous exercise. Instead, they moved as one. When Anakin's blade was striking overhead, Obi-Wan's swept in front of his padawan's torso, blocking a potentially deadly attack. Now Obi-Wan swirled about, kicking and swiping low at an imagined opponent as Anakin's blade hummed over his head in simulating deflecting a blaster bolt.

Stepping this way, then that, the Force guided better than mere training ever could. There was no need to see where the other man's arm might be. There was only one man. One set of hands knew what the other was doing. Together, Master and Padawan wove a web of protection. Out of it darted lightning-quick strikes which could come from two directions at once. Combinations impossible for any one man to achieve. This was the rare, special quality the Zilbreth kata had. It displayed in the most magnificent way that the whole was greater than its parts.

The kata intensified, then lulled, creating its own rhythm that rippled through the uniting Force every individual present could sense. The entity's four feet struck a powerful beat. It grew faster as the hum of swinging sabres grew louder. _Zrooon. Thwap. Zroooon. Thwap-zroon. Thwapthwapzroon-_

Then silence.

Frozen in opposite-facing defensive stances, the two Jedi emerged again from the cloud of mesmerizing, graceful movement. Their chests rose and fell, their inhaling the only sound for seemingly endless moments.

Finally, the invisible centre relinquished its hold. Obi-Wan and Anakin relaxed to neutral positions, turned to the crowd, and humbly gave the traditional bow.

They were met with expressions ranging from elated at the sight to wary at the display of Jedi power; yet all of them shared a common awe. In the silence, the ghosts of the mysterious rhythm and hum of the Force lingered in the air. It was as though the Force itself were hovering among them—indeed, it was. But the Bayir gaped as though this had been something they had never dreamed their high power could have accomplished.

Dagan was the first to move, obviously eager to relieve his guests from the mystified silence they had inadvertently brought on the crowd. Bouncing up to them, his face radiated with a smile that was obviously rooted sincerely within.

Facing the Jedi, he clapped each man on the shoulder and exclaimed gleefully, "And you said Jedi did not dance!"


	14. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 11

After a good night's rest and a long, warm water shower, Anakin was feeling in an unusually pleasant mood. As much as he hated to admit it, he had decided this mission was better for him at the moment than another highly demanding physical mission would have been. He had been attempting to take Qohel's advice and enjoy himself. It was preferable not to think of it as a mission at all. "Mission" implied that eventually it would be accomplished and would end. Anakin didn't want it to end.

The young Jedi strolled down the stone staircase lazily, adjusting his stubborn leather tabards as he went. A few steps down, he could see into the lounging room where Dagan and Ohna were seated on a soft couch. Anakin stopped silently, looking on. The young couple spoke in affectionate, softened tones as they smiled at each other. A sharp pang shot through Anakin's throat. It was the same feeling he had experienced upon meeting Dagan's family the day before, and had not diminished since. If anything, it was more poignant this time.

As he looked on his happy friends, all he could think about was Padmé. More precisely, the life he wished he could have with her, the life that existed only in his private world. It was a world he wanted, _needed _to make real. The real one, the one he lived in now as a Jedi, was not nearly as enticing as the vision of love he saw before him in his young friend's blissful marriage.

A sweet but piercing cry interrupted the couple before Anakin had to. Standing, Ohna kissed her husband once more before disappearing into what Anakin assumed must be their daughter's room.

Dagan looked up, noticing the young Jedi's presence for the first time. Anakin flushed, embarrassed to be caught spying, but if Dagan noticed, he said nothing. Instead he stood and gave his customarily hearty greeting of "Ava!"

Descending the staircase, Anakin returned the greeting with a nervous smile, still feeling a little like a bantha caught staring at an oncoming starcruiser.

"Are you hungry? Ohna and I have made some food," Dagan said, leading the way into the small, warmly lit kitchen.

As much as Anakin had eaten the evening before, he could not deny the small beast that once again churned in his stomach. "That would be great, thank you," he said, taking a seat next to Dagan, who handed him some bread with a thick meat spread.

Anakin took a bite, chewing a little uncomfortably as Dagan sat in easy silence. "Aren't you going to eat something?" He felt rude. Both his mother and Obi-Wan had always taught him to follow the best table manners. Not that he had always followed them, but for some reason, he felt obligated to be especially gracious towards Dagan.

Dagan waved away Anakin's concern. "I ate much earlier. You should not feel bad for eating. You are an honoured guest. Please, feel welcome." Anakin ate in silence for a few moments before Dagan commented, "What you did last night, your," he searched for the new word, "your kata. It was impressive."

"We've worked on it a lot," Anakin replied. "Master Obi-Wan is never satisfied until it's perfect." Which, normally, was well after Anakin was more than ready to move on to something more challenging. That could get very aggravating.

"It looked perfect to me," Dagan said. "I did not know Jedi could do these things." He sounded genuinely marvelled. "You do this with the Force?"

Anakin nodded and couldn't help chuckling a little. "Oh, and we do a lot more. The Jedi can do many things with the Force."

Dagan pondered the comment for a moment, perhaps resizing up the Jedi who, though several years his junior, obviously had abilities Dagan had never comprehended before. "I have always had great respect for Il Ahom. For its wisdom and power to do great things. But you Jedi, you seem to know it even more."

"I know its power, but I still don't understand it," Anakin admitted. "The will of the Force and its guidance…they're hard to grasp. Master Obi-Wan seems to understand that better than I do." As at peace as Obi-Wan apparently was with the Unifying Force, however, he had never been able to help Anakin understand it. Were he here, he would no doubt have some words about meditation and finding one's centre, but all of that still made little sense to Anakin.

Suddenly, Anakin's thought switched directions. Where _was_ Obi-Wan? He hadn't been in his guest room when Anakin had awoken. "Have you seen Master Obi-Wan today?" he asked Dagan.

"Yes. He is out there," Dagan motioned towards a window facing the sea. Anakin stood and took a few steps towards the window. He could see Obi-Wan kneeling on the pebbly beach, facing the ocean, deep in a quiet meditation. "He was up very early."

Glancing at the sky, Anakin realised that it was well past morning and slipping into the planet's midday already. His stomach dropped. "Oh no. I can't believe I slept in so late." Perhaps he had become a little too relaxed. "Obi-Wan is going to be furious," he groaned, attempting to think of something to say to his master when the inevitable confrontation came.

Dagan saved him the trouble. "No, no. He told me this morning that I should let you sleep," he insisted.

The automatic excuse-generating wheels in Anakin's mind were jarred to a halt. "He did?" he asked, genuinely surprised. This sort of gesture from his master was rare, but that made it all the more meaningful to Anakin. The young man looked out at his mentor with filial appreciation.

"He has been your teacher for how many years?" Dagan asked, obviously curious about what was to him a foreign kind of relationship. Truthfully, the idea of a non-loving yet deeply committed and personal relationship between master and padawan was still entirely alien to Anakin, too.

"Eight years," Anakin replied.

"This is almost half your life, yes?" Dagan asked.

Anakin had never thought of it that way. Indeed, in a few more years, he would have spent more of his life as Obi-Wan's padawan than he had spent on Tatooine with his mother. He wasn't sure how that made him feel. He replied, absently, "Almost."

"He is like family to you." It was not a question.

And it was no question to Anakin, either. It hadn't been for years. He nodded slowly. "I grew up without a father. Becoming a Jedi has been…" Well, it certainly hadn't been what he had expected as a boy. Qui-Gon had offered him a life he hadn't really understood, but he still felt it should be more than it was. "It's been hard. But I'm grateful to be Obi-Wan's apprentice."

It was the great unexpected yet certainly welcomed 'but' in his life as a Jedi. The Jedi could be cold and almost unfeeling from Anakin's perspective, and had certainly been suspicious of him. That was the Jedi, but then there was Obi-Wan. He was different somehow. He was the only one who really _knew_ Anakin at all, even if he could sometimes seem completely clueless.

"He seems like a wise, serious Jedi," Dagan commented. "I mean in a good way. He also seems nice."

Anakin chuckled. So Dagan had noticed, too. "I've learned that he's not wound quite as tightly as he sometimes seems to be." Obi-Wan had a sense of humour, all right. It was just drier than Tatooine at midday.

"But it is easy to see why he takes his work seriously," Dagan acknowledged.

"Being a Jedi can be very serious work," Anakin agreed. "Obi-Wan's very committed to his duty."

"But also to you," Dagan pointed out. "You are like his son. And it is a hard job to be a father. When I am his age, my daughter will be your age." The young man shook his head and pressed his knuckles together. "I thought I would be ready. But I look at my Nusa and I am terrified. What will happen to her? Will I be a good father? I do not know. I only want what is best."

Anakin sensed the depth of Dagan's sincerity, the depth of his love for his small daughter, and was overwhelmed with guilt. Here Dagan had opened his home to the Jedi, had shared his family with them, and had no idea of the motives for the mission. Of course, the Jedi weren't going to simply whisk away Bayir children in the night. But Anakin couldn't help feeling the Bayir might be deceived about how much one really had to give up in order to be a Jedi.

Anakin hadn't really realised what he was giving up when he forfeited his possessions to the Hall of Memory, symbols of what Jedi gave up in order to bring peace to others. For how long had he given up his mother, or Padmé, or any hope of having peace of his own? Forever? Every fibre in his being shuddered. He couldn't accept that.

Swallowing back tears, Anakin managed to speak. "From what I've seen, you're going to be a great father. You have a lovely family." He paused, knowing he shouldn't say what he wanted to say, knowing it would be a betrayal to the mission Obi-Wan felt was so important. But Anakin couldn't hold back. "Don't ever give that up," he added firmly. "No matter what you do, don't give up your family."

It felt great to get it out, and he hadn't broken their promise to Qohel and Qohelya not to tell the purpose of their mission. And as for Obi-Wan… well, surely his master would not want to persuade such a loving family to break apart, not even for the Jedi. What was a good cause if you had to give up so much?

Obi-Wan would understand. He wasn't another heartless Jedi. He was different. Anakin wanted to believe Obi-Wan was different.


	15. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 12

The quiet beginning to Obi-Wan's day turned out to be a wise decision. As soon as Anakin had awoken, Dagan had been eager to rush them out and show them more of Gaudan. Apparently the Bayir _were _capable of doing things in a timely fashion when they so desired.

Having seen the city centre, the bazaar, a shepherd friend of Dagan's, and Grumgee's fine handmade jewellery, Dagan had finally brought them here to Gaudan's school. He had been called off to the Synod, presumably to submit to the elders' questions on his Jedi guests.

Obi-Wan and Anakin had been left with the small but sturdily built head instructor of the town's school, who seemed more than happy to give them a tour.

"In earlier times, children were instructed at home in the trades of their parents. But we learned not everyone wants to be what his father was. So now most children come to school." The instructor explained.

"Do all students learn the same subjects?" Obi-Wan asked.

The instructor looked a bit puzzled at the concept and shook his head. "No, no. Each person learns what he needs to know."

"Practical skills?" Anakin asked. "That sounds like a good idea." Obi-Wan knew the reasoning behind the boy's sentiments all too well. He had done rather well, he thought, at bearing his padawan's endless complaints about what the boy considered to be pointless courses. Obi-Wan was of the opinion that a Jedi never knew what kind of information would be useful.

"Although," the stout instructor added, a hint of pride showing in his smile, "everyone has been learning your Republic's language in the last years. We want to be able to understand all the new people we will begin to meet."

Obi-Wan returned the smile politely. Inside, he wondered if the Bayir realised they were more likely to deal with the politicians and businessman of the Republic than artisans and philosophers. He couldn't help but feel the Bayir were bound to be disappointed. The Jedi would be perhaps the only exception; both sides might profit from a kind of spiritual brotherhood. The more Obi-Wan saw of the Bayir culture, the more he could see the benefits of the kind of alliance the Council was proposing.

Obi-Wan turned his thoughts about carefully in his mind even as he managed to attentively follow the instructor's tour out into a small courtyard. Anakin and the older man had continued discussing the teaching of practical skills, but Obi-Wan was instantly taken with the sight of the lesson being conducted in the courtyard.

To the left of the stone path, on a neatly kept grassy patch, a handful of older students were standing several metres apart, listening to and watching a demonstration by their teacher. The teacher, a grizzled man who had more the look of an experienced hunter than that of a professor, held a coil of rope in his right hand as he spoke. Then he began demonstrating.

The rope suddenly darted out from the man's rugged hand. As he swung the nearly 3 metre long rope around in a broad circle, Obi-Wan realised there must be some kind of weight attached to the end of it. In a swift move, the projectile changed direction, looping around the man's free left arm and rocketing off in his target direction at an impressive speed.

The students took up their own ropes and imitated their teacher's movements fluidly. Obi-Wan stopped to observe the scene more closely. Anakin and their guide were nearly to the other side of the courtyard before they realised Obi-Wan had stopped following them.

The stout little instructor turned back, eager to explain whatever had piqued the Jedi's interest. Anakin saw what had caught his master's attention and hesitated before following begrudgingly. The young man had seemed vaguely antagonistic all morning, though Obi-Wan had been unable to pinpoint the source. He had chalked it up to one of Anakin's indecipherable moods and paid it little mind, giving his padawan only a passing glance before returning his gaze to the Bayir students.

"You are interested in this, Master Obi-Wan?" the helpful guide asked.

Nodding, Obi-Wan asked, "What exactly are they doing?"

"They are practicing with the rope-darts to defend themselves against some of the dangerous animals that live in the forests," he explained. "These students wish to fish, to hunt, and to herd. This skill is important for their safety."

"Have the Bayir ever had to use these skills to defend themselves against other people?" Obi-Wan asked. They certainly seemed to be capable of using the Force in such a manner, as was regrettably necessary to the Jedi.

"Unfortunately, yes," the instructor replied solemnly. "There were wars here, a long time ago, between the Bayir and the other people of Dunia. But we have been in a state of ava for a long time now."

"That is very good," Obi-Wan said with a nod. They watched as the students continued executing their drills. Though the exercise was not quite in perfect synchronization, it would have appeared that way to most onlookers. Still, Obi-Wan could feel what could not be seen. He reached out gently, sensing the Force signatures of the young Bayir. They shone brightly, with a raw, unbound energy. Their Force connections were less refined than those of the Jedi, but the potential was blatant. Indeed, they were powerful, as the Council had foreseen.

Now the group paused, and the grizzled teacher spoke in a haggard but fervent voice while the students watched with rapt attention.

Obi-Wan and Anakin both gave their guide polite looks of inquiry. He answered their unspoken question. "He says 'In everything you do, you must listen for Il Ahom.' That is, what you call the Force."

"What does it mean in Bayir?" Anakin asked.

"Il Ahom? Ah." The portly man chewed on his bottom lip as he formulated his reply. "To us it means 'the Music'. This teacher is telling his students that they must be instruments and play the Music with their lives."

There was a moment of quiet contemplation. For his part, Obi-Wan allowed the edifying wisdom to wash over him as he absorbed it. This was how it felt to receive insight from another Jedi; he had rarely experienced that kind of truth outside the Order.

"So is this why music and dance is important to you?" Anakin asked.

"Yes, yes," the instructor replied, happy to see that the Jedi apparently understood. "Playing music reminds us to listen for the great music that moves us all. We must stay with it, on beat, in its rhythm for the right sound to be made."

"That is a lovely way of thinking of the Force," Obi-Wan commented.

"The Jedi think in the same way?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied, "I think we do." The students resumed their drill, and this time Obi-Wan not only felt the young Bayir working in the Force, he also heard the cadence of their expression in the light snaps of the rope-darts striking out. "The Bayir are more gifted than you know," he said with great sincerity.

The small man glowed with pride. "Thank you. But how do you mean?"

"Not everyone has the ability to hear the Force as you do. It is a gift," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, "which can be used to great ends, if used correctly."

Obi-Wan thought he sensed Anakin bristle a little at the comment. Undoubtedly the boy was thinking of all the times he'd been chastised for what was deemed incorrect use of the Force. Or perhaps, Obi-Wan sensed, there was something more to Anakin's displeasure. There again was that illusive shadow that had been tugging at his padawan all morning. Obi-Wan very much wanted to speak with Anakin about it, when they had time. But time to themselves had been hard to come by so far.

"We are like the Jedi because of that," the instructor observed thoughtfully. "We both follow Il Ahom." He smiled, a genuine warmth marking his dark, round cheeks and reaching his eyes. "It is good that we are becoming friends, I think."

Something in the man's sincerity solidified Obi-Wan's growing confidence in the mission. It was not so much in his own abilities, but in the validity of the mission itself. In that moment, he felt a measure of kinship with the Bayir, an inkling of the kind of brotherhood he felt with fellow Jedi.

Obi-Wan returned the older man's smile with his own. "I hope that we may," he said. In a rare moment of impulse, Obi-Wan patted the instructor's elbow lightly. The Bayir looked surprised for a moment, then returned the gesture with a firm grasp of Obi-Wan's arm.

The exchange ended naturally just as Dagan came bounding through the arched entry on the other side of the courtyard with his characteristic charisma.

"Ava, my friends," he said. "You have enjoyed seeing the school?"

"It's very good," Anakin commented. "You're lucky to have gone to a school like this."

"Oh? I did not feel lucky." Dagan shrugged. "But then, no one feels lucky to be in school." It took him a moment to free himself from his conversation with Anakin and remember what he had been sent to tell them. "Ah, the Synod wishes to speak with you now, if you are ready."

Though the outcome was far from certain, for the present, Obi-Wan felt at peace. He had been humbled by the needed reminder that there was a greater power behind the course of things than his own, meagre skills. In his humility, he was freed of his worry over what was to come next.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied resolutely, "we are ready."


	16. Ep IV: The Cure Chapter 13

The stone amphitheatre, which had been packed with lounging diners the evening before, now took on a more formal appearance. The tall terrace-like steps were occupied by passive-faced elders, whose veiled expressions were matched by their guarded Force signatures. According to Master Yoda's report, the Synod was comprised of male and female elders from each of the 12 Bayir cities. Gaudan was the ruling seat, and always had been. In the centre of the first row, Qohel and Qohelya sat, their hands folded neatly in their laps as they looked down to the Jedi standing on the ground.

When he reached the natural focus point of the semi-circular structure, Obi-Wan faced the two Bayir leaders and knelt, this time without a moment's hesitation, and lowered his head in respect. Anakin knelt slightly behind him and to his left, a typical position for Padawans while their masters faced reviews by the Jedi Council.

After a few moments had passed and their reverence of the Synod had been duly demonstrated, Obi-Wan glanced up. His expression was serious but neither demanding nor anxious. If there was one thing he'd learned from meeting with the Jedi Council, it was to keep quiet and impassive until spoken to.

But of course, the Council also demanded openness not merely in attitude, but of the mind. A gently probing glance from Qohelya told him the Synod would expect no less. Obi-Wan obediently, if a bit reluctantly, lowered his mental shielding. He turned back to Anakin and gave the young man a slight nod, indicating that he should do the same. Anakin looked a little surprised, but did not hesitate to obey.

Qohel gave them a small but warm smile, seemingly satisfied by their compliant behaviour. He motioned for them to stand up. "Master Obi-Wan, Anakin," his tone was kind but with a more professional edge than usual. "We have been discussing the offer of the Jedi." As far as Obi-Wan knew, the Synod had been meeting since the morning. Interviewing Dagan had been their last task. It was now mid-afternoon, and he was sure they had a number of questions formulated for the Jedi.

The statement about the Jedi "offer", however, caused Obi-Wan a bit of trepidation. He hadn't really yet had a chance to make any such offer, and was slightly worried about the conclusions the Bayir might come to on their own. The Jedi were unfortunately used to some of the stigmas attached to the Order's manner of acquiring new initiates, and Obi-Wan had hoped to make a different first impression here.

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan offered, "some clarification of the Jedi proposal would be helpful." He hoped that had sounded more like an amicable offer rather than guilty back-peddling. He could practically feel all of Qui-Gon's eloquent negotiations attempting to form themselves into useful words in his mind.

Unfortunately, Qohelya remained unmoved by the attempt. "I believe we understand," she replied, not unkindly, but with a cautious edge. As Obi-Wan subtly scanned the faces and Force signatures of the Synod, he recognized this sentiment cropping up among a good number of the elders. It was not quite suspicion, but was uncertainty at best. A natural sentiment, perhaps, but one that could quickly make such a meeting into an uphill battle if not handled carefully. Thankfully, Qohelya did not seem to think it her place to make her personal judgment the final word. "But, you are entitled to make your own case, if you wish."

Obi-Wan knew she could sense his gratitude, but he thanked her anyway before continuing. As he spoke, his eyes passed over all the members of the Synod, attempting to engage and evaluate each of the 50 or so elders. "The Jedi Order recognized our similarities to the Bayir in our affinity for the Force some time ago. Some of you may have been here when Master Yoda made his visit." He hoped that by invoking the almost universally venerated old Master, he might earn himself some credit with the elders. "Having witnessed this personally, I believe the Jedi Council is right in judging this connection as the will of the Force."

"And you want to take Bayir children to be trained as Jedi?" Qohelya said, a bit accusatory not in her tone but in her gaze. Obi-Wan saw several elders shift forward, a silent show of agreement with her.

Obi-Wan instinctively choked down his natural, irritated reaction to the allegation. "The Jedi do not _take_ children," Obi-Wan replied, his tone firm but explanatory rather than defensive. "Initiates are _given_ by those who choose to consecrate their children's lives to the Force." Persuasion was not an art of deception, but rather one of presentation. Unlike politicians, a Jedi truly believed in what he was trying to accomplish, not merely scheming to gain prestige. Obi-Wan earnestly hoped the Bayir would feel the purity of his intentions.

Qohelya's long cheeks tightened, and it seemed she was about to deliver an objection to Obi-Wan's explanation before Qohel gently interceded. "We do not know much about how the Jedi accept children into your Order," the old man said, hitting a middle ground.

Obi-Wan was glad to be getting to the practical aspects. Perhaps now he would be able to deliver the proposal the Synod had made so many assumptions about. "There are tests we can administer to help determine a child's abilities in the Force. The Council requests permission to administer these tests to Bayir children under the age of three, if their parents are willing, of course." Actually, nearly every Republic planet had laws for mandatory testing. Obi-Wan had little experience with recruitment, but he knew enough to realise the Jedi were making a kind exception in the case of the Bayir, whether they recognized it or not.

"And what happens if a child is qualified and her parents decide to give her to the Jedi?" a female elder asked. Apparently the question was important enough to her that she wanted to make sure it was not overlooked by the Synod's leaders. When she had Obi-Wan's attention, she added, "When will she see her parents?"

The grip of phantom hands tightened on Obi-Wan's empathetic link with Anakin. It was a much more familiar sensation than Obi-Wan would have liked. The boy was attempting to hide his distress rather than deal with it. Of course, Obi-Wan didn't see what good it did for Anakin to hide something from him when Obi-Wan knew precisely what he was hiding. His padawan sometimes seemed unable to do anything but metaphorically squeeze his eyes tightly shut and wait for unpleasant things to go away. When Obi-Wan glanced back over his shoulder, Anakin quickly looked away. Had the circumstances been different, Obi-Wan would have said something, but as it was, his duty lay with answering the Synod's questions.

"If requested, reports on a child's well-being and progress are sent twice every standard year." Obi-Wan replied, knowing full well the Bayir were not going to like it.

"And visits?" Qohel asked, seeming more concerned than he had before.

_Well, there's no way around this,_ Obi-Wan thought. He knew this subject would come up eventually, but his time with the Bayir only made him more certain that they would not take this bit of information well. _There's nothing you can do about it, _Obi-Wan reminded himself. It was up to the Force and the Bayir themselves. It took him a lot of willpower to breathe out, but he did, and stated steadily, "The Order has found it best for a young Jedi's development if he does not have direct contact with his birth parents, should he so desire it, until Knighthood."

The murmuring that followed for several moments was as he had expected. Obi-Wan remained silent and unperturbed by the negative response. He awaited what he was sure would be a pressing question.

"But this Knighthood," Qohelya said, taken aback, "it is not granted until very late."

"A Jedi is not usually knighted until his early twenties." To the Bayir, Obi-Wan was sure this qualified as "very late". The Jedi timeline for adulthood matched fairly well with most other human cultures in the galaxy; the Bayir clearly expected maturity more quickly. It would be difficult to explain to them that someone Anakin's age, as he had been raised, was not yet ready for the responsibilities of adulthood.

Arguing generations of different, ingrained coming of age traditions would be pointless. All Obi-Wan could do was to explain the importance of Knighthood. "Passing the Trials to become a Jedi Knight confirms the stability of character and skills essential to being the kind of Jedi who can work on one's own and truly benefit others." Thankfully the Synod members had fully quieted down and Obi-Wan could see that he had their attention once more. "For a Jedi, too much distraction in the formative years can cause..." He had been about to subconsciously look back at Anakin, but his better wits had made him conscious of it in time. It was not Obi-Wan's intention to make the boy feel more uncomfortable than he clearly already was on the subject at hand. Obi-Wan continued, looking straight ahead. "We have found that it is best if avoided."

Qohel pressed his knuckles together, looking as though he wished he hadn't had to hear what he had. He seemed to want whole-heartedly for the Jedi and Bayir to be able to reach common ground. "You understand, family is very important to the Bayir." He held his hands palm-up on his lap as if begging comprehension. "Relationships with family and our towns are part of relationships to Il Ahom."

Obi-Wan thought he understood more than the Bayir realised. "The whole purpose of the Jedi community is to provide an atmosphere suitable for and helpful to growth in faith and knowledge of the Force," he explained.

Qohel stared at him in silence, rubbing at the white stubble of his dark chin slowly with one hand. He seemed at a loss for what to say or, Obi-Wan sensed, to feel.

"Master Obi-Wan," a new councillor spoke up. Obi-Wan was mildly surprised to see that this individual was younger than some of the others, perhaps in his mid forties. The man fixed the Jedi in his dark gaze and spoke frankly. "You speak of these things like you were reading them from a book. If we wanted to read about the Jedi, we would have asked for a book about them, not invited you here. What are _your_ experiences?"

Obi-Wan was a bit offended by the man's brash tone, but did not allow it to faze him. "I have been with the Order since I was a little over a year old; longer than I can remember. The Jedi community may not resemble many ways of life, but it has been all the 'family' I needed. It may seem strange, but to me, it is as normal as your way of life is to you."

"But what of your parents?" Qohelya asked. "Did you contact them when you became a knight, Master Obi-Wan?"

It was as though they kept digging the hole deeper, then giving him no other options but to step into it. His birth parents had been little more than names and a few holos in his file. They did not mean to him what 'parents' meant to the Bayir. Of course, if he said that, it would likely be enough to shock them into stopping negotiations right then. Instead, Obi-Wan answered simply, "No, I have not contacted them."

Qohel and Qohelya exchanged pensive glances, and no doubt a few thoughts. It seemed as though they were likely to question Obi-Wan further on the matter. He hoped they wouldn't. What little he knew of his natural family would not have been helpful to his present cause.

After a few moments, the Bayir leaders seemed to withdraw their interest in that particular subject. Perhaps they sensed Obi-Wan's feelings on the matter. Or perhaps they merely sensed a more relevant line of questioning. Qohel looked past Obi-Wan to his padawan. "Anakin," he said.

Obi-Wan felt his padawan start slightly. The boy was unaccustomed to being addressed very frequently, especially not during negotiations. A padawan's job was mostly to stand quietly, watch, and learn. Comments were more appropriate from older padawans, but still infrequent. Anakin took a moment to reply, "Yessir?"

"You have been quiet," Qohel observed. The Bayir had mostly respected the nature of the master/padawan dynamic, but Obi-Wan sensed that the old man had deemed it a needless barrier at the moment.

"I didn't really have much to say," Anakin said, sounding unsure but managing at least not to stutter. Obi-Wan had remained facing away from his padawan, not wanting to add to his stress. In truth, he was quite curious and a little bit nervous as to how Anakin would handle the situation. He felt it better not to intervene. Finally, Anakin opted for, "I agree with what Master Obi-Wan said."

"Yes," Qohelya said, seeming as though she were trying to keep exasperation at bay. "But we wish to hear _your _thoughts and experiences, too. You are here to represent your Order. Your Council would not have sent you without reason, would they?"

"No," Anakin admitted, though it was clear at least to Obi-Wan that the boy still had little idea of the Council's reasoning. In truth, Obi-Wan was not quite certain either, but had resolved to take such things on faith. "Well, I didn't join the Order until I was nine," Anakin explained. "That's not what usually happens. Usually Jedi join the Order as infants, like Master Obi-Wan did. I don't know what it would be like for people who haven't known anything different." He halted and seemed to consider whether or not to say something else, but apparently decided on it. "I don't quite understand them," he admitted, sounding both chagrined at the admission and helpless in his confusion. This subject was one Obi-Wan and Anakin had been over countless times, but to little avail.

The members of the Synod seemed intrigued and perhaps, Obi-Wan thought, somewhat sympathetic to Anakin's story. "So the decision was yours?" Qohelya asked.

"Yes, I guess it was," Anakin replied.

"What did your parents think?" Qohel asked.

Anakin's voice tightened along with his chokehold on his link with Obi-Wan. "It was just my mother." He hesitated, and now Obi-Wan could only guess at the young man's thoughts. Anakin had shut them away. But if the Synod noticed, they neither seemed offended nor pointed it out. "She told me that I could choose… but I think she wanted me to go." That admission appeared to cost the boy quite a bit to make. "I think she thought I'd been given the chance for a reason," he finished quietly.

Obi-Wan very much wanted to turn around and reassure his apprentice, perhaps even to take a chance to reach out through their bond and ask Anakin to release his grip. It was what the boy needed, but it was better left for meditations. Obi-Wan had a feeling that Anakin was in a delicate state, and unbalancing it right now would only produce embarrassing results for both of them. Instead, Obi-Wan clasped his hands behind his back and held them there, attempting not to ring them.

"You miss her," Qohelya stated, with sympathy and without any trace of doubt in her voice. Apparently even with Anakin's elevated shields, his feelings on the matter were clear. The whole Synod appeared sympathetic. Perhaps, Obi-Wan thought, simply because they could imagine Anakin's position.

The young man breathed in slowly, holding it, seeming unable even to let air escape his grasp. "Yes," he finally said quietly.

There was an anticipatory silence as everyone seemed to wait for someone to ask what the Synod was truly interested in. It came from a small man with still-dark red hair but deep lines on his wizened face. "Do you think it is worth it?"

Anakin seemed to consider before replying in a near-whisper, "I hope it will be."

"Giving yourself to the service of Il Ahom is noble," a soft-spoken councillor consented, "But how can we give the life of someone else away?" he seemed deeply conflicted about his own question, and addressed it as much to his fellow leaders as to the Jedi. The other Synod members began nodding thoughtfully. Obi-Wan was pleased to sense that they were not only thinking about it, but were also actively contacting the Force for guidance in the matter. For him, that was the ultimate reassurance. The wisdom of man could fail, but the Force would lead them in the right direction if they listened, whatever that direction might be. It was the same principle behind the supremacy of the Jedi Council.

"We understand that this is not something to be taken lightly, nor do we wish it to be," Obi-Wan assured them.

"In our discussions, we all agreed that your intentions were good, Master Obi-Wan," Qohel said. It was meant as a bit of good will, but the measure was hardly necessary. The Bayir certainly hadn't been behaving as though the Jedi were an evil force bent on domination, which was more than could be said of some people's opinions on Jedi.

Still, Obi-Wan realised that the statement carried with it an unspoken and perhaps unintended '_but'_. Knowing the Jedi meant well was not enough. Obi-Wan could tell the Synod was still not sure how to respond to the Jedi offer.

The two Bayir leaders glanced at one another, a silent question passing between them. Qohel eyed Obi-Wan briefly, presumably sizing up his willingness to answer the next question. Whatever it was, it must have been something the Synod had discussed before the Jedi had been called. The old man looked down in thought for a moment before giving his associate a nod. "We have another question for you if you do not mind," Qohelya said.

"Certainly," Obi-Wan replied, hesitant but seeming entirely willing. He recognized the question as not really a question, but as a polite way of coercing someone into a discussion they might be otherwise disinclined to enter. Unfortunately, that was how these situations worked when one lacked the upper hand.

"Why did the Jedi Council not send one of their own members?" Qohelya asked.

"The head of the Order came before," an elderly council member chimed in.

Obi-Wan felt himself tense a little, immediately dreading having to answer this question. He had wondered the same thing himself. For one thing, he was afraid the Bayir might take it as an offence that the Order had sent someone who was not only not a member of the Council, but who had not even attained the rank of Master. Thankfully, the leaders seemed more inquisitive than perturbed. Still, Obi-Wan wished he had an explanation.

"You said this was not your normal kind of assignment," Qohel said. "It is unexpected to both of us."

"Yes, it is unusual," Obi-Wan replied, unable to think of anything else to say. It was indeed an unusual assignment for him and Anakin as well as an unusual choice of Jedi for such a high profile mission. It was fortunate that the Bayir were not offended. Or perhaps it wasn't such a turn of chance at all, Obi-Wan reminded himself.

"I am uncertain as to the Council's reasoning," the Jedi Knight admitted. "But I _am_ certain that their reasoning is sound and based upon the will of the Force." Of course, Obi-Wan realised there might be more specific justifications than simply vague premonitions. Perhaps his and Anakin's brief separation had given Yoda an opportunity to discern a path to solving the boy's problems.

Apparently, Obi-Wan's unspoken reasoning with himself did not go unnoticed. "You are not sure, but you have an idea," Qohelya noted, her dark eyebrows twitching in interest.

Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure what use any of this information could be to the Bayir, but there seemed no way of dodging it now. "Master Yoda has recently expressed the opinion that Anakin and I require some less stressful missions."

"Stressful in what way?" Qohel asked.

"The Council believe that constantly being engaged in defence and combat is not healthy. To understand the Force fully, a more balanced approach is needed." It was a sentiment Obi-Wan had shared, especially after the skills Anakin had quite suddenly manifested on their recent mission to Cravos. Behind him, Anakin shifted his weight uncomfortably, but held his tongue.

"And what of the promise of the Jedi to send their most qualified representative?" Qohelya asked.

It was not quite a challenge to Obi-Wan's abilities, but Anakin perceived it that way. Apparently his supply of restraint and submissiveness finally ran out. The young man took a half step forward as he spoke up. "Master Obi-Wan is more qualified than most of the Council, even some who are twice his age. He's a great Jedi."

Obi-Wan waved his padawan down, giving him a look that said _I'm flattered, but this really isn't the time. _Turning back, he gave Qohelya an apologetic expression. "My padawan speaks too highly," he said. "I expect our assignment has more to do with Anakin than with myself. The serenity of Gaudan is good for him, and in turn his unique experiences help him understand your situation better."

Several Synod members gave each other nods. Apparently, that answer made sense to them and set them a little more at ease on the matter.

Qohel, however, seemed newly intrigued. "Anakin," he asked, his tone full of curiosity, "what do you think about this?" He always seemed to want the boy's opinion, which worried Obi-Wan, especially when it came to the boy's opinions on the Council. Anakin had a tendency to let unsavoury thoughts leave his head too often.

"The Council is always concerned with how I'm doing. Sometimes too much." Obi-Wan was sure the boy was about ready to burst into a speech on the Council's meddling and unfair interferences. But Anakin pleasantly surprised him. "I don't know why they decided we should have this mission," Anakin admitted, "but I'm glad that they did."

"And we are glad you are here," Qohel said, a warm smile and his more familiar manner returning. It was clear that putting on a business-like front was difficult for the highly sociable old man.

Qohelya, however, maintained the same regal, commanding presence at all times. Nothing seemed to escape her. "They are concerned about you more than other apprentices?" she asked Anakin.

Obi-Wan automatically took the liberty of answering that one himself. "Some aspects of Anakin's training have been… unorthodox," he said, wondering as an afterthought if the euphemism was cross-cultural. It may not have been, but the perceptive Synod members managed to realise Obi-Wan must actually mean more than he said. Unfortunately, he hadn't exactly intended to reveal that there was more to the story than he was letting on.

"There is a reason for these exceptions for Anakin," Qohelya observed plainly. She directed her question at both Jedi, at whoever was willing to answer. "Why do you hide it?"

Obi-Wan could feel Anakin's eyes on him, waiting intently to see how Obi-Wan might respond. It was understood between them and even amongst other Jedi that Obi-Wan did not like to discuss the prophecy. Anakin's more and more frequent ponderings about it only made matters worse. But if they were going to mull over it some more, this was certainly not the situation Obi-Wan would have chosen to do so in. "There are certain things expected of Anakin due to his high Force affinity." He attempted to phrase it in an uninteresting way, hoping futilely that the subject might be passed over. "Each Jedi has unique abilities and that happens to be one of Anakin's."

"What kinds of expectations?" Qohelya asked, unwilling to let the subject drop. Obi-Wan's attempts to dodge it seemed to have backfired.

Obi-Wan let out a slow breath that was not quite a sigh. He really hadn't wanted to say anything, but there was no way to avoid it. He failed to see why the Bayir should care. It was hardly the sort of thing that usually came up in negotiations. Obi-Wan was even sure that, had Qui-Gon been alive, his old master would not even have wanted to go around telling everyone that Anakin might be the Chosen One.

It was with great resignation and a hint of dubiousness that Obi-Wan explained. "There is a certain prophesy concerning the destruction of the Dark Lords, who abuse the Force, twist it to unnatural purposes. They use what I believe you call _ra'ah_," He was proud of himself for remembering the Bayir word Dagan had associated with "evil", and the way he had perceived it, with the Dark Side. "The prophecy says that an individual with extremely high Force abilities will be the one to accomplish this." The last part he spoke so slowly that it seemed forcibly ripped from Obi-Wan's mouth. "There are some in the Order who believe Anakin to be that individual."

The whole energy of the forum abruptly shifted. The Force aura of the Synod snapped to attention, like a rope unexpectedly pulled taut. The amphitheatre had been quiet, but it suddenly grew deathly still. Every bit of movement in the Synod ceased, and all eyes shot to Anakin. It was not what Obi-Wan had expected in the least, and was such a sharp change in atmosphere that he himself had a peculiar urge to turn and stare at his padawan.

The silence broke with an awed whisper from Qohel: "Avsilom."

Now Obi-Wan did turn to his padawan, but to exchange looks of equal confusion rather than to marvel. Anakin shook his head slowly, glancing around the room a bit uncomfortably at all the suddenly watchful eyes.

Obi-Wan must have looked as perplexed as he felt, because Qohelya explained, "It is a name for 'the One who Brings the Peace of Il Ahom'."

"You see, Master Obi-Wan," Qohel explained, "we too have this prophecy."


End file.
